What If?
by zombiehuntersapprentice
Summary: What if Max never met the Flock? What if Max was never at the School? What if Max was at the Institute for Higher Living? What if Max was the girl in the cage with the wings? What if? VERY LONG HIATUS
1. God, Dammit

What If?

Chapter One

_I screamed out in pain as they stuck the needle into the bulging blue vein in my arm. Fire surged through me, burning me inside. _

_"Ha ha," one of the white coats said, slamming the dog crate's door closed. "Look at her." He kicked the bars of the cage, making it shake. "Weak."_

_"Let me pump that stuff into your veins then we'll talk about weak," I growled through my teeth._

_The other one laughed. "Let's go. Works done here for now." They walked away, hanging their white coats on the hooks near the small glass doors to freedom. _

_I sighed and groaned as the last of the fire spilled through my veins. After the fire subsided, I rolled onto my side and peered into the darkness. "Skid? You awake?" _(**A/N: Skid: Booya! Me: Ha ha.)**

_She groaned from the cage next to me and said, "No."_

_I sighed and closed my eyes, willing sleep to come. It didn't. I opened my eyes and thought about what the sky would look like. The whitecoats taunted me with the knowlege of it, knowing what it looked like and I didn't. Would it be green? No, thats not right. Yellow? Pink? No, no. . . . Blue. Yes, it would be blue. That sounded right._

_I hoped against hope that I would see it someday. That I'd be out of the cage. But its useless to dream. They don't come true._

_I don't know how long I stayed awake, just thinking about things, when I heard it. The scrape of doors against the floor. I closed my eyes, hoping they'd think I was asleep. But that didn't matter. Maybe they'd grown hearts over the span of a few hours. _

_I heard muffle talking, then a snobby, stuck up, female voice say, "Let's just get this over with."_

_Foot steps ran down the lanes and lanes of cages and expirements. However many minutes or seconds later, my cage door was thrown open and and olive toned hand stuck into it._

_I stared at the hand, then looked up at the body it belonged to. A boy with short, black hair and olive toned skin, and deep, obsidian eyes looked back at me. See how great my vocabulary is? I just used the word obsidian._

_I just stared at the boy. He stared back at me and sighed. "You're so slow," he said, and grabbed my hand, then started to drag me out of the cage and down the isles. _

_"Skid!" I yelled and pulled my wrists out of his grasp. I ran back down the isle, and stopped in front of her cage._

"Max! Wake up!"

I gasped and jack knifed into the sitting position, unfortunetly bumping heads with Skid.

"Ow, Max," she complained, rubbing her head. "That hurt!"

I smiled weakly at her and rubbed my forehead. "Sorry, Skid-Mark."

She smiled at me. "Its time for school!"

"School?" I threw the blankets off of me and wobbilly got to my feet. "Since when are we going to school?"

"To-day!" she sang, using her beautiful voice to pound it into me. "You said we could, and Jeb already put in the forms thinga-majigs. Now, get up and face it!"

"Isn't that a song?" I asked, moving to my small closet.

She shrugged. "Meet me in the kitchen! You have thirty minutes!" Then she skipped off. Yes, skipped. How can someone freaking _skip _at six-thrity in the morning? But, then again, this is Skid we're talking about. She always seems to be on a sugar-high. Oh, my hummingbird, what am I to do with you?

I sighed and looked in the mirror at myself. Skid said I had a body and looks girls would kill for. Athletic yet curvy body, long, rich, thick honey-colored hair, and milk chocolate eyes. Long eye lashes, long legs. I'm really not that pretty.

What some girls would call a gift, is what I call a curse. I pulled on some black cargo pants, and an army green shirt, gray ankle socks, and low-cut converse. I also had my dog tags. They said MRex.000167. A reminder of why the only person I trust is Skid.

I walked down the small hall and into the living room/kitchen/whatever. Yeah, its a small house. three small rooms, one tiny bath. But its a house and its better than trees or cold hard dirt. We've been in both.

Skid was happily sucking on a lollipop, enjoying the sweetness of it. She pulled it out of her mouth and frowned, shrugged, and pulled out a pixie-stick from the back pocket of her jeans, and ripped open the top.

"What did I tell you about the sweets?" I asked, ripping it from her hand, spewing the powder over the floor.

"But its _so _good, Max," she complained, pouting.

"I don't care." I threw the pixie-stick in the small trashcan, opened a cupboard, and pulled out a strawberry poptar. I threw it at her. "That should be enough for now. Wait till we get home and I'll give you some sweets." Yes, Skid is sixteen. Yes, she has a sweet problem. Yes, I'm in charge of her sweet consumption. And its hard. You try living with the girl who weighs all of forty pounds and can creep into a bank and no one notice her. Life's hard when you're a mutant.

"Fine," she grumbled. "I guess I'll survive." She stuffed the poptart into her mouth and her eyes lit up. "Yum, yum, yum."

"Where's Jeb?" I asked, munching on my own poptart.

She shrugged. "Left before I was up." I nodded. Not that unsual that he'd disappear every once in a while. "Hey, Max? How exactly are we supposed to get to school? Its not like we can just fly there and say hi."

Yes, she said fly. Ya know that dream I had? Well, it actually happened. Now I have wings, as does Skid. She's part hummingbird, cause she had hummingbird wings and is so light. She has to be 'cause her wings are small. She just reaches 5'1, where as I'm 6'1 Yes, I am that tall.

I smiled at her. "I already thought of that."

Fang

_"C'mon, Nudge," Alex pushed her. "Can't you go any faster?"_

_Nudge glared at her. "Will you stop bothering me about it? I'm going as fast as I can." She turned back to the computer and started to type in random numbers and letters too fast for me to keep count._ _Why can't they just get along . . ._

_Angel tugged at my sleeve. "They just don't," she whispered loud enough for only me to hear._

_"I know, sweetie," I replied._

_Silence. Then . . ._

_"Guys . . ." Gazzy said, on the other side of the room. "You've gotta see this."_

_"What is it, Gaz?" Iggy asked, walking over to him even though he couldn't see what Gazzy saw._

_"Experiments."_

_Nudge's fingers stopped in midair. I turned towards him, and Angel ran over to the glass doors separating us from the others. Alex walked over to him and peered into the room._

_"Huh. Look at that," she said. "Nudge, keep going."_

_"No," Nudge replied, shocking us all. "I'm not going to keep going."_

_"What did you just say?" Alex asked her, hands on her hips. Wow, she's starting to get on my nerves. _

_"I. Said. No."_

_They glared at each other for a moment. _

_"Let's get them out," I said, using the rest of my words for the day._

_Angel pushed open the glass doors and walked into the room, causing some of the visible expirements to shrink back. "Good idea, Fang."_

_"Let's just get this over with," Alex said, sounding like a brat. We're gonna have to have a talk . . ._

_We rushed down the isles, opening cages as we went. The two pyros stayed together so Iggy didn't get lost. _

_At the final cage, I stopped suddenly. A girl with wings that went from brown and faded to white sat in the cage, pretending to be asleep. She was probably the prettiest girl I'd even seen, even asleep. She had honey colored, long hair and long eyes lashes. She was in one of those hospital gowns the gave you here, and you could see her long, tanned legs perfectly. _

Oh, Fang, get over your hormones and open the freaking door, _Angel thought in my head._

**Out of my head, **_I thought to her but did what she said. I opened the cage door and chocolate eyes open behind the eyelids. _

_I stuck my hand into the cage and she just stared at it. I sighed and said, "You're so slow." And grabbed her wrist, then started to pull her down the isle of cages._

_"Skid!" she yelled and wrenched her wrist out of my grip, then sprinted down the isle._

_I almost went after her when Angel said in my head, _She'll be fine, Fang. She's not leaving without the other girl.

"FANG, GET UP!" Angel screamed at me, shaking me awake. I cracked open my eyes and moaned. "Morning, sleeping beauty. We're going to be late for school." She tugged at my arm, pulling it until it hurt.

"I'm . . . up," I said and forced myself into a sitting position.

"Good!" Angel said cheerily. "Jeb's here, and he wants to talk with you."

I grunted and walked across the room to my closet. Angel left the room and closed the door behind her. I threw on a black t-shirt, black jeans and black converse. Its nice to have some diversity.

I walked across the hall and brushed my teeth. Looking into the mirror, I ran a hand threw my hair and decided it looked decent enough. It was messy, black, and long. It didn't have bugs in it or grease, so it wasn't _too_ ugly.

I walked down the hall and down stairs to the living room, which led to the kitchen, where the Flock was waiting. We had gotten rid of Alex ages ago. She was a spoiled brat, thanks to the little fact that she had been woring for Itex all along. Stupid word-I-won't-say-because-of-the-mind-reader.

_Aw, thanks, Fang, _Angel said in my head. Hey, I ryhmed. I'm such a dork.

"Out of my head," I said. Man, this ryhming needs to stop. Or someone's gonna call a cop. God dammit!

Angel giggled.

"What's so funny?" Iggy asked from the counter and poured milk into his cereal bowl. How does he do it?

"Nothing," Angel said and bit into her toast.

Silence. Then Jeb said from the table, "Good morning, Fang."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "What do you want, Jeb?" I snarled. He hasn't been for two weeks.

"Now, Fang," Anne said from the doorway to the door way, pulling on her black coat thing. "Be nice."

Iggy snorted. "Yeah, that'll happen. That's about as likely as Nudge going mute."

"I resent that," she said and drank some of her orange juice.

"I just wanted to tell you to be careful," he said and sipped his coffee.

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yes, that's it."

I turned to Angel.

_There's something he isn' telling us, but I can't see what._

I nodded. Anne looked at her watch and sucked in a breath. "You're going to be late for school. Hurry up and finish breafast." She threw me the keys to her car and I caught them with one hand.

"Let's move," I said and headed towards the door. They followed.

Guess I should tell you about me, shouldn't I? Well, my name's Fang. I'm your pretty average guy except the fact that I can fly. No, I am not superman. But I have wings. These crazy nut job scientists grafted wings and made me 2% avian, and it was like bang, bang, pow, Fang can fly. But when I got the wings, I was in a place call the School for the first ten years of my life. Then, Jeb brought us here, stayed for two years, then went incognido for another two years. Then he came back in and out as he pleased for the next two. Weirdo wacko crazy nut job scientists.

I live with five other kids: Nudge (motor mouth thirteen-year-old), Angel (slightly creepy mind reading eight-year-old), Gazzy (don't ask don't tell ten-year-old), Iggy (sixteen-year-old blind pyro chef, and a pretty damn good one), and Tank (down to earth sixteen-year-old.)

I stopped in front of the middle school/elementry building and let Gazzy, Angel, and Nudge out. Then, I drove off to the highschool.

I pulled into the parking spot reserved for students and was immedietly met by friend who happens to be a girl who's a _friend_, Lissa.

"Hey, Nick," she said, and smiled up at me. I half-grinned down at her. She's just a friend. I made it clear to her that I'm not looking for a girlfriend, and I'm not interested. She took it rather well, really. "Hi, James, Tyler!"

Iggy waved at her and followed me to the steps to the school. Iggy is blind, just so ya know. And he has super-duper hearing so he can hear you where ever you walk and all that.

"Hi, Lissa," Tank said, smiling.

We had time to kill, so we sat on the school steps and joked around, watching the kids. A fist fight almost broke out between the jocks, the cheerleaders were fixing their makeup, blah blah, goths were sulking about over near the big tree in the corner of the school property, and two badass motorcycles were pulling into the school.

Wait, what? I looked closer and saw two badass looking motorcycles coming into the school parking lot. One of them was black with blue flames on it, and another is black with a hummingbird on it.

"What's that noise?" Iggy asked.

"Motorcyles. Cool motorcycles," Lissa answered, picking at the loose thread in the knee of her jeans, but looking at the motorcycles as they pulled into the spots next to Anne's car. The one with the blue flames swung her leg over and removed the helmet, shaking out long honey colored hair. And she had chocolate eyes.

One word: "Woah." Yeah, I actually said that. The girl on the motorcycle was just pure, raw beauty. She had tanned skin and long eyelashes, full lips, and a thin, silver lip ring. I had always wondered what it would be like to kiss a girl with a lip ring . . . Woah, woah, woah, Fang. Keep the hormones under control. No need to go to the R rated imagination zone . . . ah, Hell.

The other one was much shorter than the girl, probably a whole foot. But she was pretty, too. She had auburn hair and bright blue eyes. She reminded me of a pixie or whatever, she was so tiny and it looked like she had just downed two redbulls. Tank's eyes seemed to light up when he saw her, and I smiled on the inside. Well. Tank's gotta new crush. I'll bother him about it later.

Anyways, they walked over to the steps like models. Alright, maybe not like models, but you get my point. They weren't 'strutting their stuff', but were really pretty, and calling them hot would be offensive.

As they walked past us Lissa stood up and said, "Hi, I'm Lissa!" And stook out her hand. What? Are we at a business meeting?

Pixie replied cheerily, "Hi, I'm Skid!" Pixie said and smiled brightly, then shook Lissa's hand.

"I'm James," he said in Skid's general direction. See? I can progress. I stopped calling her 'Pixie' in my head.

We all introduced ourselves, besides Tank and the Honey-haired girl. I elbowed Tank in the ribs.

"Huh, what? Oh, I'm Tyler," he said not taking his eyes off Pixie. God, dammit. Maybe I can't progress.

"I'm Max," the honey-haired girls said. Why did she seem so familiar?

Max

When we were walking up the steps to get schedules and all that jazz, a girl with flaming red hair and gright green eyes introduced herself to us. "Hi, I'm Lissa!"

Skid, being the social butterfly that she is, said, "Hi, I'm Skid!" Then they shook hands. What? Are we at a business meeting?

"I'm James," Strawberry-short-cake said.

Everyone else introduced themselves, including Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. Oh, God. Did I really just think that? Ignore the line before my previous line. Why don't you people ever ignore anything I say? Sometimes I just feel like I get too much attention.

Mr. Tall, D - no; his name's Nick - elbowed the blond dude with brown eyes and he said, "Huh, what? Oh, I'm Tyler." I noticed how he couldn't keep his eyes off a certain 5'1 red head with bright blue eyes.

"I'm Max," I said, shooting Tyler a glare that said, _Lay a hand on her and you'll be answering to _me_. _"C'mon, Skid-mark."

"M'kay, Max," she said and looped her arm through mine. We walked into the school and to the office.

The old, gray haired secretary smiled warmly at us and said, "May I help you?"

"Yes, we're new here and we were wondering is we could get our schedules?" Skid asked chipperly. Is that even a word?

"Ah, Max and Skid, yes?" We nodded. She pressed a few buttons on her computer and printed some pages out. She picked them up from the disposer thing and handed them to us. "Have a nice day!"

Skid smiled brightly at her and I smiled. How does Skid manage to do it? I don't think I'd ever manage to smile this much.

We went back out into the hall and compaired schedules. Skid pouted. "We have no classes with each other."

Nick and and his friends waled over to us.

"What's your classes?" Lissa asked, and grabbed the schedule sheet from Skid's hand. She squealed. "We have all the same classes together!"

Skid smiled. Again. "Yay! Can you please show me around?"

Lissa nodded and looped her arm through Skid's. "Yes, yes I can." And the skipped off. Dear, God, if you're listening, HELP ME.

"What are your classes?" Nick asked me, and ripped the sheet of paper from my hand. I reached for it, but he held it above his head. Since he was about three inches taller than me, I couldn't reach. God dammit.

He studied the paper. "Huh. We have the same classes together."

I too my chance and ripped the paper out of his hand. "Great."

"Want me to show you around?" he asked and he sounded almost . . . eager?

I shook my head. "Nah. I got it." Then I walked away.

Wanna know what I did? Yep. That's right. I got freaking lost. AND THE SCHOOL IS SMALL. I HAVE A FREAKIN' BUILT IN NAVIGATION SYSTEM, AND IN ALL PLACES TO GET LOST, IT HAS TO BE A SCHOOL. Now that my ranting is over, I finally found the right classroom. Twenty minutes late. I say this too much, but God dammit.

I opened the door to the classroom, and stopped the teacher while she was in the middle of saying something.

"Ah, nice to see you can join us, Max," she said, scowling at me.

"Yeah . . ."

"Want to tell us a little bit about yourself?"

"No, not really," I said.

"Oh." Awkward silence. "Well, you can sit next to Nicholas."

Alright, I say this way too often. GOD DAMMIT. I frowned and scuffed my way over to the back, inbetween James and Nick, who were trying to contain their laughter. I sat down and dumped my bag onto the floor.

"Got lost, Max?" Iggy asked me.

I pretended to stretch, and wacked my hand behind both of their heads.

This is gonna be a long year.

* * *

**Don't expect all the chapters to be this long. **

**Skid: I'm still happy I was finally in a fic.**

**Tank: How do ya thnk I feel? I've been here from the beginning. **

**JP: I've been here way too long. Help. Me. Two months, one day. Almost exactly that. **

**RnR?**

**- Sanity**


	2. I Have No Feelings Towards HimHer

**We be back, and ready for action.**

**Tank: Or as much action as our lives get.**

**JP: Skid just down two redbulls.**

**Tank: Oh shisinizers.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them.**

**Claimer: I do, however, own Skid and Tank. And maybe some other characters that will be added later.**

**Tank: Unfortunetly.**

**Skid: *runs about like a madma- er, mad**_**woman**_*****

**Me: I added an extra power to everyone with wings in this story. Its not really a new power, but new to the books and a bit cliche to fanfiction.**

"I'm taking a nap," I siad, and walked down the hall and to my small room. Who knew school would take all the energy out of you? I didn't even bothering taking a shower or changing my clothes, I just fell onto the bed with a _thump _of the springs and boards.

I can handle twenty Erasers single handedly, ten Fly-boys, and about fifteen M-geeks, but school? Puh-lease. I was out like _that. _*finger snap signifying how fast I fell asleep*

All my dream was s a pair of dark, endless pools of onyx staring into my soul.

I sat up, gasping for breath. The back of my neck was sweaty, my shirt was sweaty, I was just sweaty. I brought my long hair in a rubberband and looked at my watch and frowned. Twelve-forty? Why hadn't Skid woken me up?

"Skid?" I asked, padding to the doorway barefoot. I don't remeber taking my shoes off. "Skid, are you still up?" I walked down the small hall and into the living room, a smile played on my lips. Skid had crashed on the couch, a blanket carelessly thrown over her, and curled into a tiny ball. The TV was on, and it sent shadows of light flickering across her peaceful face.

I walked over to her and gently shook her shoulder. "Skid? Sid-Mark?" She mummbled something that was relatively close to 'go away', so we'll stick with that. I sighed and flicked off the TV, then hoisted Skid up. Did I mention she only weighed about forty pounds? She wasn't really that heavy to a girl who had to drag two tons of God-knows-what across a stadium, so forty pounds was like picking up a grain of sand.

She stirred, but didn't wake up. When she's awake, she's probably the most active and aware person on Earth. But asleep? Psh. Yeah, right.

I carried her over to her room and kicked open the door with my toe. Skill.

Still, Skid stayed asleep. I walked over to her bed silently and gently laid her down, but only _then _did she open her eyes. "Max?"

"Yeah," I said. "You fell asleep in the living room. Go back to sleep."

I was moving back, but she caught my wrist. "Wait! I had a nightmare. It was one of _those_ again. Will you sing me a song like you used to, when we were younger?"

"Its been so long, Skid. I don-" but the pleading look in her eyes made me sigh and sit down on her flower printed bed spread. I started to hum a song I used to sing when we were little, but I couldn't remember the words. Skid curled up into my side, and I stroked the hair out of her face as she fell asleep. When she was asleep, she looked so tiny and fragile and young. When she was awake, she still looked that way, but less. And when she was in a fight . . . you don't want to be on her bad side.

I leaned down and kissed my hummingbird's forehead, then pulled a blanket up to her chin. I looked at my watch and was shocked. I had stayed in here until five in the morning? Well, no use going back to sleep now.

I sighed and let Skid sleep, then went to the bathroom. You're probably wondering how we hide the wings. Well, they can sink into my back and come out unpainfully. Pretty cool, eh?

I turned the knob on the shower and waited for the water to get warm. Then, I stripped my clothes and watch, then hopped in.

When I was done with my shower, I dried off and wrapped the towel around myself. I turned off the light and walked across the hall to my room. Then, I opened my closet door and picked out a black t-shirt, and some green shorts that were the texture of sweat pants, but stopped right before my knee, and had logos all over it. Even on the butt. But, its comfortable, so I'll deal. And its easy to run in, so its even better. I added some tennis shoes, and I was ready to role.

I looked at my watch, and frowned. It was still six . . . I shrugged and went back into the bathroom, and pulled out the hairdryer, plugged it into the wall, and turned it on high.

Geez, I hate hairdryers. Too loud . . . But, I've suffered louder than a hairdryer, so I sucked it up and finished drying my hair. When I was done, it was straight, so I braided it. The braid stopped right at my bottom of my shoulder blades and fell down my back in a perfect braid. I'm good.

"Max, are you done?" Skid asked. "I need to take a shower!"

I smiled. See? She sleeps for just an hour - which I'm pretty sure she slept longer, but its just an example - and she's back on a redbull high. I opened the door and smiled down at her. "Yeah, I'm done."

"Good," she said and slipped past me, and pushed me out. Now, that's family. You bring her into her room late at night, hum her the music to a song you haven't sung in years, and she pushes you out of the bathroom. Appreciation. It's a beautiful thing.

Fang

"Up and at 'em," I said, tugging Angel out of her nest of blankets, clothes, and stuffed animals. I can't believe I'm even _in _this room. Its pink, pink, and a trim of pink. I might just die from a pink overload. I'll give Gazzy my laptop, Iggy my clothes, Angel my . . . something, Tank can have my room, and Nudge can have . . . whatever. I don't own that much stuff, so they'll just have to split whatever they get.

"No," she moaned, and turned onto her side. "Let me sleep."

I grinned. "Don't make me get the tickle monster."

Silence. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me." She didn't say anything, so I sighed.

"Here it comes," I said and then started to rapidly poke her sides, tickling her.

"Ha ha, Fang, ha ha, stop it!"

I shook my head and continued to poke her side.

"Alright, I'm, ha ha, up!" she yelled. "Just stop tickling me."

I stopped. "Get dressed." Then, I walked out of the room and to the bathroom. And - get this - I brushed my hair. Yes, I actually brushed it. I didn't run my hand through it, I didn't just leave it how it was how it was when I woke up, I brushed. It.

God. Something must be wrong with me. Maybe its Max . . . Psh. Yeah, right. I have no feelings what-so-ever toward the could-be model. None at all. Not a single one.

Yeah, I'm not fooling anyone, am I?

_Nope, _Angel thought in my head, popping the p. If that's even possible, but if she can think something in my head, then you can slam a revolving door.

I brushed my teeth and ran a hand through my hair, defeating the purpose of brushing it all together, but it looked good. Did I seriously just thing my _hair _looked _go_o_d_? Why don't I just hand in my man card now?

_"Yes, is this Fang?" "Er, yeah." "You were said to have thought your hair looked good. Please turn in your man card immediatley." "You'll never take me alive, coppers!" "Dude, we just want the man card."_

I wonder if girls have woman cards. If they do, I bet they look like credit cards. And have infinity money on them. And the liscense to make a man look like a fool in front of everyone.

Girls suck. Its final.

But, then again . . .

Oh, God, my hormones need to be watched by people. They're out of control.

Why, hello, R rated imagination zone. It's good to see you've decided to show up.

Max

I hate boys. They stink. Literally. But they also stink in the non-literal term. Why do they stink, Max? You ask. Well, if you're a girl, you should already know that. If you're a guy, I'll explain why your sex stinks.

I was just being innocent (Ha ha. I make myself laugh.) me and waiting for a computer. I looked around the bookshelf and saw an empty computer. I smiled and started to walk towards it, and when I turned, I ran into a brick wall.

"Ow," I moaned. And the kicker? The end of my braid ended unerneath the hook of my bra strap. Yow. If you're a girl, you know how it feels. If you're a guy . . . ask your sister. Wait, don't ask her. Cause then she'll think you're really weird. Or a cross dresser. Either one's fine with me.

I looked up at the brick wall that had suddenly appeared that I had run into. If brick walls wore black. And was really cute - wah?

Let's get this straight - I HAVE NO FEELINGS TOWARD THE SUPER-CUTE, ULTRA HOT, HUNK OF-

GOD, DAMMIT!

Nick smirked down at me. "Watch it." But his tone was full of humor. He stook his hand out to me, to help me up, and an image of the boy from two years ago flashed through my mind. Could he . . . ?

Nah. This boy was way better looking.

DAMMIT.

I reluctently took it, and when I did electic sparks ran up my arm and to my spine. He helped me up, and I hastily let go of his hand.

"Klutz much?" he asked, smirking down at me. I'm tall, but he's a few inches taller, which severly pisses me off.

I scowled at him. "I didn't see you."

"Blind, then?" he asked, and followed me as I made my way to the computers.

"No," I spat. "I actually have very good eyesight."

"Yeah, from far away." I punched his arm, and he didn't even wince. We got to the computers, and he pulled the chair out for me, and I glared at him.

"I could do it myself," I said. He shrugged. I sat down in the chair and Nick was walking away, but I noticed a small little notebook open. It said Ter Borcht. Looks like a typo . . .

"Nick!" I called down, and I was happy he wasn't too far away and there weren't that many people in the library. "You forgot something." I held out the notebook for him, and he held out his hand at the same time. I raised an eyebrow at him and he sighed, and walked over to me and took the notebook out of my hand.

His eyes flickered to the computer screen, and his hand twitched over to the mouse with movements too fast to be normal. Well, that's weird.

I stopped his before he could move the mouse, and he looked shocked. I smirked at him. "Don't even try it."

He narrowed his eyes at me for a second, and stomped away. He really didn't stomp, but it was pretty damn close. I rolled my eyes and turned back to the computer screen, then scrunched up my brow.

On the little task bar was 'Ter', and three little dots. I clicked on it, and my eyebrows shot up to my hair line.

On the page was a description about a mad scientist, arrested for illegal genetic expiriments on humans. He was currently residing in a mental institute in the Netherlands.

What was this doing on the computer?

And why was Nick looking it up?

Saturday

I was sitting in my yard, in sweats, leafing through the second book in the Twilight series . . . New Moon, right? Well, my opinion: Bella needs to grow a pair, Jacob needs to get over himslef, and Edward needs to stop being an over dramatic jackass.

I looked up at Skid, who was watering our over-grown flower garden with her curly auburn hair tied back with a green and purple bandana. "How do you read this?" I asked her.

She shrugged. "That was the worst book in the series. So damn boring. But they get better. And you have to admit Stephanie is a good author."

"Of course," I said. "She's a good author, but this book stinks!" I slammed it closed and threw it across the yard.

Skid chuckled. "No need to be over dramatic."

I shrugged and rolled onto my back. "I want to do something fun."

She asked, "Wanna go to that park where we saw all the super-hot guys playing football shirtless when we first flew into town?"

I smiled, remembering when we had flew over the town. We hovered there for at least twenty minutes, just watching the shirtless guys sweat and play football. Damn. We could be the best creepers _ever. _"Let's do it."

"I'm gonna invite Lissa, m'kay?" she asked, but she was already pulling out her cellphone.

I nodded. "Sure. But tell her to meet us there. I want to fly some today."

"All righty," she said, and went a typing on her phone key board.

"I'm gonna change into some jeans." I got up and walked over to where New Moon had landed and picked it up. Then I flitted into the house and changed into some jeans, and a t-shirt that said, 'My black cloud pwns your sunny day.' I put that into my bag and and changed into an every day t-shirt with slits in the back for my wings.

The park

Lissa was dressed in dark blue skinny jeans and "wooden" sandal platforms with white straps, and a light blue shirt that had a picture of Jesus on it and said, 'BRB.' Anyone notice that _no one _uses BRB anymore? When I first heard it, I thought it was barbeque. Guess I was mistaken.

Anyway, I was almost rolling on the ground laughing. And now we were sitting on a bench, checking out cute guys who just happened to have their shirts off and showing either a) six packs, or b) eight packs.

"God," I said, closing my book. "We are such creepers."

"Yeah," Lissa said. "But we're cute, so its ok." I rolled my eyes, but I was chuckling.

"You know what would make this whole creeper-fest even _better_?" Skid asked, looking across the park.

"What can make a creeper fest better? Its a creeper fest. Nothing makes it better," Lissa stated.

"So true, so true," I said, bumping fists with her.

"Cokes _always _make creepers and anything creepers do better," Skid said, reached into her bag, and pulled out some money, then half walked, half skipped to a drink vending machine.

Silence.

"Are you two close?" Lissa asked.

I smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Been together since birth."

She scrunched up her brow. "You don't look like sisters."

I shrugged, and looked bck up at the cute guys. Just in time to see - do you really have to guess? - Nick take his - another one - black shirt off.

"_Damn,_" I said, leaning in like I was going to get a better look. Lissa was leaning in, too.

"What are you _damn_ing about?" Skid asked, handing me a Dr. Pepper.

"_That,_" Lissa and I both said, both inclining our heads towards Nick.

And when I say _damn_, what I really meant was _DAMN. _Eight pack, muscled arms and back and, well, everything. And his face isn't too soar on the eyes, ei-

DAMMIT. DAMMIT, DAMMIT, DAMMIT! Bad Max! Keep your eyes off the cute guys!

Hey, I rhymed. I should be timed.

Nick is really hot, these thoughts I should have not.

I'll try to keep my head focused, but its probably infested with locusts.

Skid shrugged. "Tyler's cuter."

Lissa and I gasped. Alright, I might be against making connections here, but Lissa and I were really hitting it off.

"How could you say such a thing?" Lissa asked her.

Skid got that dreamy look in her eyes. "I don't know . . . there's just something about him."

We looked at Tyler, who had also tooken his shirt off by now. What is with guys taking their shirts off? If a girl took _their _shirt off, people would call the cops, but when a guy takes his shirt off, people throw parties.

Anyway, Tyler was a little thicker than Nick, and maybe a little more muscular, but Nick would probably still take him in a fight. Tyler was a little shorter than Nick, and lighter. He had sandy blond hair and wise brown eyes, and his skin was less tan than Nick's.

Anyone else notice who I'm comparing Tyler to a lot?

Yeah, thought so.

**If anyone has any music about a) girls who kick ass or b) what you think should be the song Max sings, please, let me know.**

**Tank: Because she's way too lasy to look it up on her own.**

**JP: She's considering something by Evanascene, which I do not own, by the way.**

**Skid: It's so awesome how you can make disclaimer into everyday life.**

**JP: It's awesome how you can fly.**

**Skid: It's awesome how you can -**

**Me: Silence!**

**Skid: . . . **

**JP: . . .**

**Tank: *cough* . . .**

**Me: **_**I**__**kill you!**_

**But I don't want **_**you **_**to be silenced. Music, reviews.**

**RnR?**

**- Sanity.**


	3. Jobs and Corner Cafes

**After a very intense game of rock, paper, scissors, we decided to use **_**Fully Alive **_**by Flyleaf for the song Max sings to Skid.**

**Skid: I still think we should have used a carebear song. *snickers***

**Me: *glares***

**Disclaimer: I don't own them yet.**

**Another disclaimer 'cause I'm cool like dat: I'll probably claim some of these songs are written by Max, but they're not because I don't write music. If I did, you'd cover your ears and beg for mercy.**

**WARNING, WARNING: They're might be pop/hip-hop in my chapters. Even something by the *gulp* *whispers* . . . Cheetah Girls.**

**Skid: No! Sanity, say it ain't so!**

**Me: *looks at the floor* I can't.**

**Everyone who knows me: *faints***

**Me: To lighten the mood at my shocking announcement, I have two more. David Archelletta? The manlierish version of JB. And . . .**

**THERE'S A FREAKING GUMMY BEAR SONG. I WAS MOVING TO THE GROOVE. IT WAS HILARIOUS. WHO KNEW I HAD HIPS? !**

**Tank: Not us.**

**Me: AH! *faints***

Friday

Fang

After another tiresome day in the Hell we call highschool, I picked Angel, Nudge, and Gazzy and drove back to Anne's which was about ten minutes away from the school. I almost fell asleep at the wheel.

When we finally got to Anne's, I opened the door lazily and went straight to my room. I was freaking exhausted.

When I passed through the living room, I was tempted to t fall onto the couch, but managed to thump my way down the hall and to my bedroom. What I didn't manage was to gt all of my body onto the bed. My still shoed feet hung off the end of the bed.

_I was running. That was obvious because my feet were moving, and wind was blowing my long hair out of my face. Wait. My hair hasn't been this long since . . ._

_A low growl came from behind me, and I ran faster. The Erasers. They were coming. No, not the cute little pink thing on the end of your pencil, but the kind that have saliva dripping off their one to two inch, sharp teeth that I will not call fangs, because it would be just weird. _

_Part wolf, part human, one-hundred percent killer. And I was running from one. Or twelve._

_I was in a poorly grassed field surrounded by a barbed wire fence. So we couldn't get out. _

_Out of nowhere, the earth opened up and out came a girl with tanned wings sprouting out of her back came out. I came to a sudden stop, almost ramming into her. _

_"I'm sorry," I said. Why was I apologizing?_

_But she only smiled and put out her hand. "Take it," she said. Her voice was intoxicating, thick as blood but thin as water, smooth as velvet but rough as sandpaper at the same time. But it was addictive like a drug._

_I looked at the hand, then looked back at the Erasers, who had taken a sudden stop, also. They stared at the girl with lust in their eyes. _

_I couldn't let that happen. I turned back to the girl and she said, "Take it. It's ok." I swallowed hard and grasped her hand. A blinding light came, and suddenly-_

I was awake.

"Fang, man!" Tank said, shaing my shoulder. "Wake up!"/lll,,,,,,,lkk

I slapped his hand away. "I'm up."

"Good," he said with a smirk. "You slept the whole night since we got home."

I scratched the back of my neck. "And . . ."

"And me, Iggy, and the guys are gonna go play some football. Wanna come?" He sounded almost bored when he said it, which was the usual Tank way.

I yawned and looked at the bedside clock. Holy shit. Twelve-thrity? I never sleep in that late.

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

"We're leaving when you get dressed. Hurry up." Then he walked out of the room. I sighed and got off of the bed, then changed into a clean pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. I grabbed my phone and wallet, stuffed them into my back pocket, and walked out of the room. I ran a hand through my hair, and didn't even bother brushing my teeth. Who was going to smell my breath, anyways?

"Mornin', Fang," Anne said over her coffee cup. "Sleep well?"

I grunted as a response, and grabbed some bread from the bread box, popped it into the toaster, and waited for it to go ding.

What had that dream been about? And why did the girl look strangely like Max?

I sighed and the toast was done. I smothered the slightly burnt toast with butter and bit into the heavenly awesomeness.

"Ready?" Iggy asked, coming into the kitchen with Tank behind him. How he navigates the house, I have no idea.

I nodded, but then remembered the idiot's blind. He should act like it . . . "Yeah."

"Well then, let's go." He grabbed the football from the counter. How?

I stuffed the rest of the toast into my mouth and gave a pitiful wave goodbye to Anne.

"Bye, Fang," she said, and took another sip of her coffee. Who drinks coffee at noon? "Don't kill anyone." But I was already out of the door.

We arrived at the park, and the guys were waiting for us. The guys are about most of the football team, but me, Iggy, and Tank could beat them to a pulp in about three minutes. But whatever.

We immediatly started to play, throwing the ball around like a bunch of idiots. But we were _fun _idiots.

After about an hour or so of playing around, most of the guys had shedded their shirts. I could practically hear the girls swooning. I had yet to take my shirt off.

But then I saw Max out of the corner of my eye, and smirked. Girl creeper, run for your life! But then I saw Lissa and her sister sitting next to her, and elbowed Tank in the ribs.

"Ow. Will you stop that?" he asked, and I smirked and shook my head. "Well, what do you want?"

I nodded my head towards the girls, and a smile crept onto his face.

Then he started to show off. He played his hardest, but it seemed Skid was in another world all her own.

Finally, I had enough of this heat in a black shirt and just took it off.

"_Damn,_" I heard Max say from the bench, and from the corner of my eye I saw her lean forward.

" . . . are you _damn_ing about?" Skid asked, coming back to the bench from wherever she had gone.

"_That,_" Lissa and Max said at the same time. Well. It's good to know I've got a good body. *snort* Yeah, right. Like I care.

Alright, maybe a little.

The man card officials will soon be after me.

Sunday

Max

I woke up probably the happiest person on Earth. And, no, I'm not that kind of happy, J. It's a long story that invlolves a stop in a tiny town, one spazzy girl, and a spork. I will never forget that day . . .

I yawned and stretched so much it felt like my limbs were going to come out of their sockets, yet it felt good at the same time. I sat up in bed and rubbed my head. Rhyming in my head needs to stop. Now. Immediately.

Anyway. I lazily got out of my bed, exited my room, and walked down the hall and to the kitchen, where the front door was located. I had forgoten to get the mail yesterday. So sue me.

I opened the door and reached into the mail box, which was convenienty located right next to the door for lazy people like me. And I don't gain weight because of the birdy genes inside of me. It's a hard life, but someone has to do it.

I picked up the mail and leafed through it. Junk, junk, junk, oh look; a PEOPLE magazine susbcription, junk, junk, ju- wha the Hell is that?

I furrowed my brow and moved to the counter. I set the junk mail onto it and ripped open the letter that said in big, red letters; WARNING.

About five seconds later, I was dialing Jeb's number on my cellphone. It rang once . . . twice . . . three . . . four times before the message thing came on and Jeb's voice said, "Please tell me whatever you were going to after the beep. Thanks."

Beep. "Where the Hell are you, you jackass? The rents do. I might not be set on staying here, but Skid really likes it, and if we don't have any money we're getting kicked out. Bye."

I pressed the little red button and slammed the phone down on the counter, then started to pace the small kitchen. How could he do this? He appears and convinces us to go to live here for at least a year, then he dissapears, and rent is due. Yes, I am fully capable of getting money my own way, but Skid had drilled it into me that pickpocketing people is _in fact _illegal. And I'm not exactly the most social person in the world. I tried working at McDonald's once . . . I've been banned from them in fourty-seven states.

"What's wrong?" Skid asked from the doorway. I jumped. She needed to make some noise when she moved . . .

"Nothing," I said and she glared at me.

"I can tell when you're lying, and I'm not five. I'm the same age as you, ya know." She stuck her hand out, eying the envelope in my hand.

I sighed, ran my other hand through my hair, and handed her the letter. She scanned over it, and gave me a look.

"What?" I asked.

"You make this seem like a big deal. It's easy. We just have to get jobs," she stated simply and walked over to the fride, and pulled out a small container of bulberries, strawberries, and some yogurt. She walked reached to the cabinet and pulled out sugar and the blender.

I snorted. "Yeah, easy for you, miss social butterfly. You'll get the first job you see. I, on the other hand, will be banned from the other three states that McDonald's forgot about."

She rolled her eyes and plugged the blender into the plug. "You'll get a job somewhere. Just spread your wings."

"Yes, then I'll get a job at the zoo. Do you think they pay much to be an exhibit?" I asked.

She glared at me. "I didn't mean it literally."

I sighed and leaned against the counter. "I know. I'm just frustrated, I guess."

Skid put the lid on the blender and pressed the button down. "I know. Who wouldn't be frustrated at the jackass?"

I smiled to myself. Hearing Skid curse always seems to cheer you up for some strange reason. Yeah, it's weird, but it works.

"Well," I said and picking my phone up from the counter. "I'm going to get a head start on finding a job. If no one hires me, I blame Jeb."

"M'kay," she said and stopped the blender. I guess it wasn't all the way stopped, because when she opened the lid, it spewed all over her. She gasped, and took a step back. I was laughing my ass off. She glared at me through the remnants of what looked like it was going to be a good smoothy, which made me laugh even harder.

But I got out of there before she could get old of a knife. She always had good aim . . .

About three hours later

Finding a job is _hard._ Especially when you're me, and you happen to accidently curse the boss out.

I sighed and put my head in my hands, and my elbows on my knees. I was currently residing on a bench on the side of the road, thining about what places I had not been turned down. Sometimes, I think the world's out to get me.

I looked up, and scanned my eyes across the street and down the street.

_There._ I had almost missed it. Imbedded into the corner of all the shops and what nots was a little corner store, and placed in the window, in sloppy handwriting, was a help wanted sign. I got off of the bench and walked to the store, and was surprised when I saw it was packed. Like, I could barely get into the door way.

But when I got in, it was strangely roomy. In fact, it was actually a small cafe with bookshelfs packed with novels and books of all sorts along the walls. Small tables littered the floor, and a small stage was in one corner.

A long line went from the door to a counter, which held two cash registers, and two cashiers taking their sweet time getting the orders. One was a middle aged man, who was eerily familiar, and the other was a teenage girl decked out in black from head to toe.

A black floor length skirt, and a baggy, loose knit sweater with a hood and draw strings hanging weakly down the front. She had three ear piercings in her right ear, a ring on each finger, and a silver necklace on a black leather cord that was a crescent moon, stars, and a black stone in the center. She also had brunette/red hair that couldn't really be classified as a color, because it seemed to change in the light, and light blue eyes that were hidden behind black glasses. She was probably about fourteen. Guess it was a family own business.

"Need something?" the girl snapped, and I came out of my la-la world and realized I had spent so much time studying her, I hadn't even noticed the line moving.

"Um . . ." I said.

"Um . . ." she copied, tapping her fingers on the wooden counter.

"Yeah . . . I need a job," I said.

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Can you cook?"

"No," I said. The last time I tried to cook, I was in jail for a day.

"Ever been a waitress?"

"No."

"Ever worked a day in your life?"

"No."

She smiled brightly, and stook her hand out. "You're hired!"

"Great," I said, and grabbed her hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong. "I'm Max."

"I'm Sanity," she replied. **(A/N: Oh, yeah, I went there. I got bored and was sucked into a world where people have wings. If only I could live there.)**

I raised an eyebrow and she sighed. "My real name's Mary-Sue, but I hate that name, so I cahnged it."

"Not legally, of course," the middle aged man said, and Sanity slapped his arm.

"This is my uncle, JP. Call him James, Jamey, Hell, call him Bob for all I care, but never call him Deven."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because Deven is an ass hole name," JP said. I like this guy . . . **(A/N: If your real name is Deven, I mean you no harm whatsoever. I just needed to say that there was an ass hole name out there, and that's the first thing that came to mind.)**

"Anywho," Sanity said. "You'll start tonight. You'll just be giving out food, m'kay? Your uniform is a t-shirt and jeans."

I nodded, and waved goodbye to my new employers, and walked out of the cafe.

**A few things that have to get off my mind before I forget them:**

**I might not like Lady Gaga, but Alejandro is probably the sexiest name in the world. If your name is Alejandro, give me a call, and we'll have a chat about sexy names. **

**I read comments people put on youtube for songs and 1) who cares if they copied someone? Let them. If the voice doesn't kill my earbuds, and it's not just a jumble of words, I'm good. And 2) who cares what religion they are? They can be a Jewish/Christian/Anglican/all the other religions out as long as the music's good.**

**Yellow is a gay color.**

**Yeah . . . that's about it.**

**Oh! Check out the gummy bear song. Hi-larious.**

**RnR?**

**- Sanity**


	4. Heads Are Gonna Roll

**Alexis Taylor - Yes, it is THE JP. That's why Max said 'One was a middle aged man who was eerily familiar.'**

**JP: *alien creepy music* Wee-woo.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Yet, anyways. THEY WILL BE MINE!**

**Side note: I want everyone reading this to Deaviant art (dot) com, and type in twisted princess. FREAKING AWESOME.**

It was a wonderful Friday afternoon, and I had the day off of work. Sanity and I had grown pretty close, and it turns out her uncle was a famous author, but he asked me to keep it on the down low. I really didn't mind. What would I gain by telling people he wrote best selling books?

Skid was staying at Lissa's house for the night, and she had asked me to come, but I declined. Am I the only one that finds it weird to have a bunch of people sleeping in the same house?

Right now, I was putting a small bag together to go to the local gym thing. It was free, so I didn't have to worry about losing money to not pay rent with. Yay!

I stuffed my feet into my tennis shoes and slung my bag over my shoulder. I slipped out of my room, down the hall, and out of the house. I walked into the garage and slung my leg over the bike, and started her up. The garage door already being open, I road out and closed the door behind me.

I road down the road until I was in town, and I was glad it was still light out. I got off in the gym parking lot and walked to the door, and opened up. Heads turned, and not because of my good looks.

Because . . . I. Was. The. Only. Girl. There. Weird, right? I gave them 'The Look.' In case you don't know, The Look is the stop staring/shut up or _die _look.

The looking people flinched slightly, but went back to whatever they were doing, which was bench pressing weights, sparring, or just fighting the stupid dummy things. I walked over to the counter, where a man with arms thicker than my head sat.

"Need something, hun?" he asked. He had really creepy eyes, like they were undressing me, which seriously pissed me off. Can this guy please put a cap on his pery-ness?

"Yeah," I replied sharply. "Where's the girl's changing room?"

He laughed right in my face. "Hun, this is a _guy's _gym."

I glared at him and snapped, "First of all, stop calling me hun. Second, sexist much?"

He crossed his huge arms in front of his chest. "I can be as sexist as I want to be. You're a girl, and this is a gym for guys who can actually kick someone's ass if they want to. Why don't you visit the sissy gym across the street, _hun_?"

"I can beat your ass from here to the end of next week, _ass._"

It turned into a glaring war, until I smirked and said, "I'll just use the guy's." Then I walked over to the bathroom, into a stall, and changed into a sports bra, a pair of shorts that were super short and super tight, and my tennis shoes.

When I walked out of the stall, I saw two very surprised looking guys peeing the urinals. Can someone spell awkward? Well, I can't, so thanks for the help.

I blushed furiously, and got out of there ASAP. I breathed out a sigh of relief when I was out of the bathroom and walked over to a wall, pulled out my iPod, and put in the earbuds.

_Remember the Name _by Fort Minor (Right?) came on and I smiled to myself, and walked over to an empty dummy, my hands already wrapped and eager to punch something. All too eager.

I kicked and punched the dummy to the rythm or whatever of the song, and if the dummy was a real person, he'd be dead by now.

A tap on my shoulder brought me out of my hit-and-punch-the-crap-outta-this-thing world, and I spun around and snapped my fist into the person's nose. Maybe I wasn't out of my own world quite yet . . .

"What the Hell?" Nick asked, putting his fingers to his now broken and bleeding nose.

"Shit," I said, pulling the earbuds out of my ears. "I am so sorry." Please, please, please don't sue. There's nothing to tak- waitaminute. Why am I worrying about people suing me? I have freaking wings! I can disappear! I was never in this town. I'll move to Mexico and become a drug dealer. The cops'll never get me! Mwahahahahahahahahahaha!

Those evil thoughts are brought to you by Obama's stupidness.

"It's alright," he said, and removed his hands from his nose. Must have put it right when I was doing the credits . . .

"You sure?" I asked and he nodded. "Alright . . . need something?"

"Yeah. What are you listening to?"

"Obama giving an extremely fascinating speech," I replied, sarcasm dripping from my mouth like slober from a dog/Eraser. I prefer the dog.

He glared at me. "Seriously, what are you listening?"

"Music."

He glared at me again.

I sighed and said, "Rember the name, Fort Minor . . . right?"

He nodded his approval. "Good song."

I nodded. "Yeah."

Silence.

"So . . ." I said. "How's . . . James?"

He chuckled at my lame and but not yet failed attempt at conversation. "Fine. How's Skid?"

"Pretty good. She has the hugest crush on Tyler." Shit, shit, SHIT. DID I REALLY JUST SAY THAT? SHIT, SHIT, SHIT! I'M DEADER THAN CHICKEN IN THE OVEN, I'M DEADER THAN THE GOOSE IN THE DOG'S FREAKING MOUTH, I'M DEADER THAN A DEFENSLESS CHICK IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD. I'M DEADER THAN CHICKEN LITTLE GETTING HIT A THOUSAND TIMES BY FALLING SKY. (stupidest movie EVER.) (Anyone else notice that all of my death refrences refer back to birds?)

He chuckled. "Tyler returns the feelings."

"Now only if they get the nerve to ask the other out." I'm not exactly thrilled about it, but if Skid's happy, I'm happy. And not in that way.

He nodded, and we sat in a comfortable silence for a minute.

"Um . . . see you at school Monday?" I asked, and he nodded and walked over to the weights.

I just had a conversation with the dude I never even really got to know. Sweetness.

Saturday night - the Corner Cafe

"No, no, no!" Sanity screamed into her book, stood up, and slammed the thick novel down onto the counter. She glared into the book, as if scolding it, scowled at it, and frustratitly sat back down in her seat, and started to read with a glare on her face.

I gave her a look. I had seen her mouth words to the book that weren't exactly innocent, make faces at the book, even walk away from the book for a while, but never _scream _at the book.

But no one else even looked at her. They continued to eat or drink whatever was on their plates, or read the books or type on the computer. The usual for the Corner Cafe; refuge for future writers and readers alike. **(A/N: Dude. I need to own that cafe! JP: Um . . . no comment.)**

I sighed, shook my head, and continued to walk to a table where I had to give an order. My feet hurt, my back hurt, but I was making enough money tp pay half the rent, so I was good. And it didn't hurt more than being on fire, so it wasn't that bad.

"Here's your food," I said and put the plates down on the table.

"Thank you," a guy about my age said and smiled at me. He's cute . . .

"No problem," I said and smiled. Too . . . much . . . smiling . . . ugh. My mouth muscles hurt more than my feet. I need to slap someone so I can feel better.

When I was walking back to the counter, do you want to guess what happened? Since you can be wrong in many, many ways, I'll tell you.

Some jerk face slapped my . . . you got it. My ass.

I froze where I was, and took several deep breaths. _You need this job . . . you need this job . . . you need this job . . . killing someone will not help your situation . . . ok, maybe a little . . . you need this job._

I took abother deep breath and moved on, went to the counter and slammed the tray down. Sanity didn't even flinch.

"If someone slaps my ass _one more time, _heads are gonna roll," I growled.

"Mm-hm, that's nice," she said, not taking her eyes off the book. She took the tray, lifted it up, and put it on the shelf behind her. Without looking. Skill.

"Are you even listening?" I asked her.

"Yes, no, maybe so," she said, and flipped a page on her book, her glare turning into a scowl.

"Did you hear what I said before?"

"Yes," she said, put her book mark in the page, and stood up. "Yo! Listen up! If someone slaps Max's ass _one more time_, heads are gonna roll," she yelled. Man . . . she was loud.

Mumbles and grumbles of oks and aye-aye, captains filled the cafe.

"Thank you, oh subtle one," I said.

She smiled at me and sat down in her chair, propped her feet up onto the counter, and took her book out. "No problemo, seniorita."

We sat in silence for a while, Sanity flipping pages on her book like the wind, and me people watching. That is, until the singer person that comes every Saturday stormed out of the upstairs office, an yelled, "I quit!" and stormed out of the resturaunt.

JP came down the spiral staircase that lead to the apartment upstairs and stormed into the kitcthen.

"What was that all about?" I asked my crazy little friend.

"Sometimes, JP can be a real ass," she stated simply, and flipped a page in her book. Man, that was a thick book. What was she reading? The dictionary?

"Ah," I said and people watched for a second, until something that had been bugging me for a while finally touched my lips. "Hey, why do you call your uncle JP and not 'Uncle James' or something?"

She grinned and closed her book, and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Said it made him feel old."

"It does make me feel old," James said, coming out of the kitchen and sitting between us. "And I'm not that old."

"Sure you aren't," Sanity said.

He glared at her, but sighed after a minute and ran a hand through his small amount of hair. He turned to face me, and asked, "Max, can you sing?"

I was about to answer when Sanity said, "Ugh! I'm offened, Jamey. Why don't you ask me?" She batted her eyelashes, but after about a second of it burst out laughing.

James shook his head, chuckling. "You know very well that you can't sing."

"He- oh, wait." Sanity grinned.

"So? Max, can you sing?" he asked me again.

"No," I stated, my voice deadpan.

"Ah, c'mon, Max," Sanity said. "I can't sing, Jamebert here can't sing worth a toad, and Justin Bieber isn't having a concert anywhere close by."

I chuckled, remembering all the crappy Justin Bieber jokes Sanity managed to squeeze into about a week, from people's hair, to how she has a deeper voice than him.

"But I'm still not singing," I said.

She grinned. "C'mon, Max." She pushed me off of my chair and pushed me over to the stage.

"Sanity, stop it! What are you doing?" I asked, but I already knew the answer. She was going to force me to sing. That butt head.

She pushed me onto the stage and grabbed the mic. "Max will now sing us a song," she announced and heads turned towards me, and I glared at Sanity as she skipped back to the counter.

I will not do this, I will not do this, I will not- I started to walk down the stage, but Sanity glared at me and I sighed. I lazily got back onto the stage and stood there like an idiot for a long time.

In reality, it was probably about thirty seconds, butit felt like hours.

Until the lyrics to the song I used to sing to Skid flooded into my mind and I grabbed the mic and started to hum the beginning music.

_Telling Layla's story  
'Bout how her bones are broke  
Hammers fall on all the pieces  
Two months in the cover creases_

_Fully alive  
More than most  
Ready to smile and love life  
And she knows  
How to believe in futures_

_All my complaints shrink to nothing  
I'm ashamed of all my somethings  
She's glad for one day of comfort  
Only because she has suffered_

_Fully alive  
More than most  
Ready to smile and love life  
And she knows  
How to believe in futures_

_Fully alive  
More than most  
Ready to smile and love life  
And she knows  
How to believe in futures_

_(I hummed the music)_

_Fully alive  
More than most  
Ready to smile and love life  
And she knows  
How to believe in futures._

I hung my head, embarrassed. But that changed when I heard cheering and clapping. I peeked through my hair and saw eyes on me, clapping hands and smiling faces.

A grin spread across my face and I looked at JP and Sanity. Sanity had a smug look on her face, and was directing it at me like, 'I told you so.' While JP had his mouth hanging open in shock.

I jumped off of the stage and walked over to the counter.

On my way, guess what happened. Yeah. I was just as surprised as you.

Time for heads to roll.

**I thought the song was longer . . . whatever. I like thios chapter.**

**And **_**yes **_**I do talk to my books. Not that shocking, is it?**

**Tank: You have yet to scream at a book, but it probably won't take long.**

**Me: If that next book is as . . . something as the last, I will be screaming at my book.**

**R&R?**

**- Sanity**


	5. Bullshit in My Ears

**Dylan appears in this chapter.**

**Skid: NOOOOOOOOOO!**

**JP: I can't believe I made that guy . . .**

**Tank: Can't stand the dude.**

**Me: He's cocky in this. Extremely cocky. But this is DYLAN. He's an ASS. He broke up FAX. He's an ASS.**

**Dylan should dissapear like this disclaimer: OH MY WINGS. I DON'T OWN THE JACKASS. OR THE OTHER WINGED PEOPLE.**

After an amazing weekend of working, beating the crap out of some pervy guy, and sleeping till noon, I was getting my stuff from my locker for third period. History. We had a test today. One I didn't study for. Oh, too bad, too sad.

I closed my locker and some guy that I hate with all my soul appeared behind it.

"Dylan," I growled. "What do you want?"

"Just you, hunny," he replied cockily. Heh-heh. Funny.

"Well you can't have me," I said and started to walk away, but he grabbed my math book from my hands and held it above his head. I hate this guy. "Give me my book back." I reached for my book but he stretched his arm and I couldn't reach it.

"For a kiss," he said, getting closer, "I might give it back."

I flicked his nose, and he backed up. "Not a chance."

"Aw, you know you love me," he said smugly.

"What? What was that?" I asked, cupping my hand over my ear. "I can't hear you over all that bullshit in my ears."

He put a hand to his heart in fake hurt. "Why, Maxie, I'm h-"

"May I help you?" Nick asked, pulling my math book from Dylan's hand and handing it to me.

"Thanks," I said and glared at Dylan.

"No problem," he replied, giving me a half grin that made my heart give a squeeze. WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ABOUT?

"No," Dylan said, entering the conversation again. "I think the question is may _I _help _you_?"

"God," I said, turning around. "You are such a douche."

"She's right," Nick said and walked up to me. "Who's the douche?"

I shrugged. "Douches are douches. Why give them titles?"

He pondered over this for a second. "True."

I smiled and entered the classroom, and took my spot in the back.

We waited for a second until our new student - AKA, Dylan - walked in and took a seat next to me. Fun.

I could practically hear all the girls swoon and feel their glares on me. Geez. He's not that freaking good looking, alright!

Mr. H passed out the tests and I started to scratch in my answers with my sloppy hand writing. It was sad.

After about five minutes of hard questions written in chicken scratch, Dylan started to peek at my paper.

I pointed a finger at him and called out so the whole class could hear me, "Cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater!"

He pointed a finger at me and replied, "Liar, liar, pants on fire!"

"What, are we in third grade again?" Mr. H asked.

"Yes," I replied. "And he's a cheater."

"No, I'm not," he said and glared at me.

"Yes you are," I said and glared back at him.

Mr. H sighed and said, "Dylan, switch places with Nick."

"Bu-"

"If you have a problem with it, you can bring it up with the principle." He pointed to where Nick was sitting, and Dylan sighed. They switched places and Mr. H said, "Continue with your test."

We bowed our heads and continued to fill in the answers. Nick didn't look away from his paper once.

I think I might have flunked.

But this might be a good time to explain who Dylan is. Dylan is suposedly my perfect other half. He's an ass, a jerk face, cocky, a butt head, a . . . well, he's an annoying little boy witht he voice of Justin Bieber. I met him when I was fifteen.

Mr. H told us to pass up our tests up, and I handed mine to the girl in front of me. She took my paper and handed it to the person in front of her, and so on.

We had a minute of free time, so I took out my notebook and jotted down random words you don't need to know.

The bell rang, I put my stuff into my bag, and I got out of there. Time for math. Boo.

Tuesday morning

Fang

I woke up from a dream driven by hormones. The back of my neck was producing sweat like a waterfall, and I was breathing heavily. I shall not go into detail of the dream, because I am not a perv like some of you people.

I threw the blankets off of me and changed into a t-shirt and jeans. Only _then _did I looked at my watch.

It was four-twenty-five. I didn't have to get up until six. My life sucks.

But I don't have much room to talk, do I? I live in a house, sleep in a bed, have a family. At least I don't live in a cage. Small spaces. Bars. Cold metal. Needles. Tests. Erasers.

I cracked my kunckles and decided I might as well go for a fly. Its been a while. I cracked open my window and put my feet on the edge. My wings elongated, and I winced ever so slightly. It had been too long since I flew.

I took in my wings slightly and jumped out of the window, and before I could go splat, my pure black wings caught me in the air, and I glided for about a second before I started to beat them.

They brought me up, up, up. I felt free and I poured on the speed, and kept going until light started to peak over the horizons.

I hovered for about thirty minutes until I noticed a speck close to me.

_Erasers? _Too small. _Bird? _Too big.

I started to fly towards it, but before I could reach it, he/she flew away at lightning speed.

Holy crap. That was . . . FREAKING AWESOME.

It was like _whoosh, bam, boom, bang! _Gone.

On the down side, I have _absolutely no idea what or who it was._

Down sides suck.

I attempted to follow the dark spot. Attempted being the key word. It was gone before I could say, "Holy (Long word I can't spell. In Mary Poppins movie **(A/N: And fanfiction won't let me use!)**)! . . . I don't think that's how you spell it, but that's close enough.

I sighed and looked at my watch. Five thirty . . . eh. Enough time to get back to the house. I turned around and flew back to the three story farm house, and landed on my windowsill.

Closed the window and walked out of my room, only to be tackled into a hug me Angel and Nudge.

"Um . . . hi," I said and patted their backs, unsure of what the Hell they were doing.

Angel pulled back, her happiness turning into a glare. "Where the Hell were you! We had no fucking clue where you were! You could have been kidnapped by the freaking Erasers! Do you relize how worried we were about you? ! Of course you didn't, jackass! Never do that again or you will be on your knees begging for mercy!" she yelled at me and stormed off.

. . .

. . .

. . .

Yes. The eight year old has the mouth of a sailor. And I taught her. I'm so proud.

"Yeah? Where were you! We were worried sick! The School could have taken you away while you were asleep! But that would be kinda hard since you're one of the lightest sleepers I know. But that's not the point. They could have drugged you, Fang! Never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER do that again! You are in so-"

"Nudge!" I yelled. "Shut up!"

She gave me a look. "Fine. But do NOT do that again." She stormed off and slammed the door to her room.

I rolled my eyes at her over dramaticness and went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, ran a hand through my hair, and walked downstairs and to the kitchen. Too long sentence, right there.

Anne handed me a plate of five waffles and a bucket load f syrup. "So? Where were you this morning?" she asked.

"Flying," I said and sat down at the table thing, and didn't even bother to cut the waffle. I just forked it - that soundde wrong - and put it in my mouth, loving the blueberry waffle goodness.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Tank asked. "It would have saved me from the drama we had this morning. Nudge was running around with one eye eyelinered."

"Is that even a word?" Iggy asked.

Tank shrugged. "It is now." He bit into his waffle.

We ate in silence. The girls joined us and we ate in silence again. I like the silence. It gave me time to think.

That is, until Gazzy let one rip and we all had to evacuate the house. Hints the name Gazzy.

"Gazzy, that's gross!" Nudge all but yelled and pushed his shoulder, making him wobble a little bit.

"Nice job, man," Iggy said and pounded fists with Gazzy.

"I can't believe I'm related to you," Angel said.

Gazzy grinned. "Well believe it, Ange. I had beans for supper last night, and I'm loaded with gas."

. . .

I'm scared to go in the car with that kid right now.

Fifth Period

The track

The mile. Probably the funnest thing to do in PE.

And Max was kicking _ass _in it. Her jog seemed like everyone elses run. It was freaking awesome.

I ran to catch up with her, and jogged along beside her. After a few seconds of silence, I asked, "Wanna race?"

She grinned. "Sure. We'll start . . . now."

I started to run full speed, while Max just kept at a normal pace.

After about a minute, I thought she just took the challenge to get rid of me. I'm not that bad, am I?

But then it was like someone had flipped a switch. She poured on the speed, and quickly caight up with me. Her long legs stretched and stretched until I thought they were just going to pop out of their sockets.

She grinned as she passed me and started to laugh when she crossed the finish line thing. She had finished her mile. And I finished about thirty seconds after.

The guys will never let me live this down. I doubt Max will ever let me live this down.

Life sucks.

Tuesday afternoon/night - Corner Cafe

Max

When I walked into the Corner Cafe, I was surprised when Sanity wasn't wearing jeans and a t-shirt or an ankle length skirt as usual. She had on a pair of black boxers with green alien heads and a black hoodie.

"You alright?" I asked and put my bag behind the counter.

"Yeah," she sniffled. "Just a little sick." She sneezed twice.

"I don't think that's 'a little sick'," I said. "Why are you dealing with people's food when you're sick?"

"I haven't been giving people their food. JP won't let me."

"Thank God," I breathed and she glared at me, then sneezed into her elbow.

"Alright," I said, taking a motherly role. "Get your butt up to your room, right now."

"Who are you? My mother?" r she asked and sneezed again.

"No, but I can kick your ass, so you're going to listen." I shoved her off the stool and up the spiral staircase, her sneezing all the way.

"Where's your room?" I asked.

"One floor up, senior-ior-ior-" she sneezed again, and willingly walked to the next floor.

She lead me to her room, and even with my super-awesome mega-cool raptor see-in-the-dark-vision, I had to squint to make out anything. Books, pens, paper, and clothes littered her floor, and I barely made out a shape of what you'd consider to be a bed.

I shoved her towards the bed and she unwillingly wobbled over. Yeah, I know it's wrong to shove a sic person, but I really don't care. She could have been in bed all day, but instead she decides to possibly make other people sick, so I really don't care.

"Lay down and don't get up," I told her.

She mumbled something, and she was asleep soon.

I sighed and walked down the the cafe, and took my spot behind the counter. JP was typing away on a black laptop, and I pulled the guitar the counter from its holder. I have no idea what they used it for, but it was easily accessed, so I won't ask questions.

I pulled out my notebook nad strummed the stings of the guitar.

**Me: I'm jealous of my Mary-Sue.**

**Skid: Why?**

**Me: I don't have alien boxers!**

**Tank: And we all know you're from Pluto.**

**Me: It's a planet!**

**Skid: Those scientist are just jealous because they aren't dwarfs.**

**JP: We all know it.**

**- Sanity**


	6. Delicious

**I'm on pep-rally protest. I shall not cheer, nor hoot, nor even clap. **

**Skid: Elementry always win.**

**JP: It's a fixed game!**

**Tank: Darn teachers.**

**Me: But that skit was hilarious.**

**Skid: I laughed so hard. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own them yet! But they will be mine soon!**

I'm going to kill her. I'm going to kill her verly slowly, very painfully, very torture-filledly. After I get over this stupid cold thing.

Sanity got me sick. Yeah. Got the bird-kid with the high immune system freaking _sick. _Like I said: I'm going to kill her.

I laid in my bed, coughing and sneezing my brains out.It wasn't a fun experience.

Skid stood over the bed, looking at me with a guilty expression on her face. "Are you sure you want me to go, Max?"

I nodded and coughed again. Not helping, body. "Just go, Skid-Mark. People'll think its weird if we're both gone from school and I'm the only one sick."

"Bu-"

I weakly pointed a finger at the door. "Get out before I kill you." Then I fell into another fit of coughing.

She put her hands on her hips. "Max. You're sick, and I'm not going unless you're better."

I glared at her, but it as ruined by a sneeze. Everyone has a number when they sneeze: You can sneeze once, you can sneeze ten times. I am one of those that sneezes three times. One, two, three consecutive sneezes. Now my nose hurts.

I was about to protest, when I saw the glare on her face. A glare is a foreign thing on Skid. It happens sometimes, but this time it made me shiver. Yeah. It was that cold.

"Fine," I croaked. "I'm going back to sleep, but so help me God if you're here when I wake up."

I rolled myself up into a big ball of covers and sneezed again before closing my eyes and being swallowed by darkness.

Hmmm . . . who knew it was that easy?

Ari

I was perched on a thick tree branch in the forest outside of Max's house. I had a pair of binoculars to my eyes and was peering through her window.

No, I'm not a peeping Tom. I'll leave it at that.

I grinned to myself when Skid sat on the bed next to Max and stroked her hair away from her face.

Both of them. Mother figures toward each other. Weird, is what I'd call it. Who needs a mom? Needs somebody to love them? Need somebody to take care of them when they're sick?

Who needs them?

After about thirty minutes of Skid watching over Max, she stood up and walked out, causing my line of vision of her to change. But that didn't last long when she walked out of the house and to the garage. She road out on a black motorcycle with a hummingbird on it.

"Boss," George said. "She's leaving. The Max is asleep in the house and she's sick. Should we go in?"

As much as I would like to, I had direct orders from the director to not even touch either of them, no matter how good bird could be.

"No," I said. "We'll leave them alone." I grinned, showing my teeth. "For now."

Skid

I was at my locker, getting my stuff for third period. I closed the locker and walked down the hall, and Tyler caught up to me, and my world brightened just a wee bit. I am so lame.

"Hey, Skid," he said shyly. "Where's Max?"

My heart dropped a little. "She's at home. Sick."

"Oh. Your parents are taking care of her?"

"Um . . . yeah. Sure."

"So . . . do you wanna go to the movies or something?" he asked and scratched the back of his neck.

My heart went to its original place in my chest, and even though it beat faster than any birds or humans, it sped up a little. "Sure!"

He breathed out in relief and smiled at me.

I furrowed my brow. "But why didn't you ask me when Max was here?"

He blushed insanely and coughed. "Don't tell anyone this, but . . . she kind of scares me."

I laughed. "She scares everyone. Don't tell her I said this but," I got on my tip-toes and whispered in his ear, "she's actually really nice."

"My lips are sealed," he said and grinned down at me. "Not a soul will hear of it."

"Good," I said. "So when do you want to go to the movie?"

"Saturday?" It was a question, not a statement.

"Pick me up at seven," I said and walked into the classroom. I was going on a date with the cutest guy in school.

Damn, I'm a lucky duck.

Saturday

"Where are you going?" Max asked, coming into my room.

I shrugged. "Out."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Alright . . . but don't be _out _too late or I'll have to call the police and tell them a guy kidnapped my sister."

I blushed and sighed. "How'd you know?"

She grinned. "I know everything, Skid. Be careful, m'kay?"

"Alright, Max," I said. I thought she meant to be careful with other people, but she really meant to be careful with my heart.

Tyler picked me up at seven, and I got in the car.

"So, what do you want to see?" I asked him and he shrugged.

"Doesn't really matter. What do you want to see?" he asked.

"Guess I'll decided when we get there."

He pulled into the parking lot and we got out.

"So . . ." he said at the ticket counter. "Movie?"

"Hmmm . . . How 'bout Red?" I asked.

He grinned. "You know, most girls would pick a romantic comedy or some crap like that."

I shrugged. "I guess I'm not most girls."

"No, you sure aren't," he muttered. I don't think I was supposed to hear it, but I did, and I couldn't surpress the giggle.

He bought the tickets, and we went inside. While waiting in line fore popcorn, I caught movement in the corner of my eye. Yeah, I know it's a movie theatre, and all kinds of people are moving, but these people were in suits.

I looked closer. Who wears suits to the movies? Why were they so dressed up? Why were they so good looking? Why did one just grin at me and he had _k-nines two inches long?_

"Oh, no," I said. "Hey, Tyler?"

"Yeah, Skid?"

"Can . . . can we go somewhere else?" I asked, edging away from the line.

"Why? I thought you wanted to come."

I continued to stare at the guys in the suits. "Um, I just get a bad feeling, ya know?"

His eyes flickered over to where the Erasers were. "Yeah. Sure. We can leave."

I nodded absently. "You want to go to a fast food place or something like that?"

"Sure," he said. "McDonald's?"

I smiled. "Micky D's. Sure."

We exited the movies hastily, and I'm happy to say no one followed us.

Ten minutes later, we were sitting on a bench outside of McDonald's, and I was happily munching on my second Big Mac when he said, "How do you eat all of that and manage to stay so small?"

I shrugged, smiling. "High metabolism?"

"Yeah. Me too."

We sat in silence for a while.

"Pretty night," I said.

"Yeah," he replied. "You can see all the stars."

"So bright," I said. "Not much like New York."

He looked at me. "You've been to New York?"

I shrugged. "Lived there, you could say."

He turned to face me. "Where else have you been?"

"All over the place. New York, Louisiana, Colarado, you name it."

"Are your parents in the military?" he asked.

I shook my head. "We just move a lot. My . . . my dad can't keep a job."

Lies, lies, lies. We move a lot because they always find us. Because there isn't much of a safe place.

"I hope you don't move again. I kinda like having you here," he said and scratched the back of his neck.

"Yeah," I agreed, smiling. "I kinda like being here."

Max

"Skid? You home?" I called from my bed.

"Yeah, Max," she replied from the kitchen.

"Well come here. And bring some food," I said, sitting up.

"M'kay," she said and I heard a door close, the fridge open, jars clanging, and spoons clacking.

A few minutes later, Skid came in with two bowls. One had ice cream, the other had soup.

"Let me guess which ones mine," I said, rolling my eyes.

She grinned and handed me the soup bowl. Well, it did look pretty good . . . Might as well let her serve me the freaking soup.

"So?" I asked, blowing on the soup. "How was the date?"

She sat/layed down nect to me, and leaned her shoulder on mine. "Fantastic. He was sweet, and nice, and just . . . awesome."

"But . . ." I said, taking a slurp of soup. Alright. It was pretty good.

"Why do you assime there's a but in this?" she asked and twirled her spoon in chocolate syrup and dipped it in the peanuts she had put in the bowl.

"Because no matter how sweet or cool or awesome someone or something is, there's always going to be a but." I took another slurp of soup, and gave her a pointed look.

She sighed and mumbled, "I saw an Eraser . . ."

"WHAT?" I did a spit take.

"Yeah . . . he was really good looking and he grinned at me, and he had really long k-nines."

"That means they found us," I said, making my fist clench and unclench from a fist. "We've got to get out of here."

"No, Max!" she begged. "I really, really like it here. Can we please stay, just for a little while longer?"

"No," I said, but she whipped out the big guns. Bambi eyes.

"N-dammit," I said. "Just for a little while, Skid. We're not staying here any longer than necessary."

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, Max!" she said and hugged me.

"Oh, wait," she said, pulling back. "Your sick."

Monday

I was back and ready for action. I was completely healed, no longer sick, and was back at work.

"Evening, Max," JP said from behind the counter. "How was your sick days?"

"Fine," I said. "I got out of school. I don't know if I should thank or kill Sanity."

He shrugged. "Thank, I guess. From what I pick up, you're not a big fan of school."

"Not in the slightest," I said. "Where is the book worm?"

"In the kitchen," he replied, and continued to type away on the laptop.

"Hiding from me?"

"No. Said something about enjoying how good all the food tasted."

"Ah. Sanity! Come out here!"

"Are you going to kill me?" she asked.

"No."

"Alright." She poked her head through the foor that lead to the kitchen and watched me for a second.

I sighed. "I'm not going to kill you, S."

"Why should I trust you?"

"Because you got me out of school, which I hate."

She narrowed her eyes and took a step out of the kitchen. "Alright. I believe you."

I grinned. "Good."

She sat behind the counter and I noticed for the first time the sandwhich she had on a plate. "Want half?"

I shrugged. "Sure." I took half of the monstrosity that was her sandwhich. It had three pieces of bread, and every sandwhich condiment besides mustard. It was _huge. _I had no idea how she even cut it.

She shrugged. "I didn't do it."

"I said that out loud?"

She nodded and bit into the monstrosity.

"Huh." I bit into my own half of the sandwhich.

One word: Delicious.

**Awwww. Skid's in love.**

**Skid: Shut up.**

**Me: And Tank likes having her there!**

**Tank: Shut up.**

**Me: And JP . . . .**

**JP: HA!**

**Me: Shut up.**

**Side note: Max isn't a mutant. She's a transgenic organism. Look it up.**

**- Sanity**


	7. What the fing fuck?

**I want to learn curse words in other languages **_**sooooooooo**_** bad.**

**Skid: I agree. I want to be able to call someone a bitch in French or something freaking awesome like that. **

**JP: Hmmm . . . Now that I think 'bout it, that would be pretty sweet.**

**Tank: Who says sweet any more?**

**Me: Toph.**

**Skid: The Avatar character?**

**Me: *nods* The badassness.**

**Disclaimer: WOW. I've given, like, a lot of disclaimers. Maybe I should just do a universal symbol for "I don't own." . . . Nah. Ruins the effect. I don't own these people. I own Skid and Tank, though.**

**Tank: We're still trying to prove her wrong. Not working out too well, considering she's our lawyer. **

**Me: *grins* Mwahahahahahahahaha!**

Wednesday - after school

I had just finished _Breaking Dawn_, and I had one thing to say about it.

"What the f-ing fuck?" I asked to no one in particular as I stared at the last sentance. 'The End.' What the Hell kinda ending is that? That's the ending you put on a 'Once upon a time' story. _Not _a story about a bunch of vampires, a human girl, and wherewolves.

"Hey, Max?" Skid said from somewhere down the hall.

"Yeah?" I asked and glared at the book. I'm turning into Sanity. I need help. Maybe I should ask the expert herself . . . Nah. That'll only make my condition worse.

She poked her head into my room, one of her hands pressing against the door phrame. "Have you seen my phone?"

"Nope," I replied and saw the stupidest thing on the planet clinging to her wrist. "What is on your wrist?"

"Oh. Glittery, glow-in-the-dark fun bands!" she said.

"NOOOOOO!" I screamed. "My sister has risen to the light side!"

She rolled her eyes. "Stop being so overdarmatic." She sprinted over to me - but it only took about two seconds since the room is so small - and sprang onto my bed, and held her wrist out to me.

I arched an eyebrow. "You want me to suck your blood?"

She rolled her eyes again. "No, dummy. Flick it!"

My eyebrow rose higher. "How moush sugar did you have today?"

She smiled and held up her hand, counting on her fingers. "Three pixie sticks, five lollipops, a coke, a packet of sugar, and just a teensy-weensy bit of redbull."

I did a face palm. How did I not expect her to somehow smuggle sweets into the house? I feel like America talking about Mexico. However hard you try, there's always going to be some drugs getting in.

She shrugged. "I'm gonna go look for my phone."

"Alright. No more sugar," I said as she walked out of the room.

"Yes, mom," she said and looked at me, rolling her eyes.

"Here!" I yelled and threw the book at her, just missing her head. "Take your crappy book."

"It wasn't that bad, Max."

"Sure it wasn't."

She shrugged and flitted off somewhere, probably to fill herself up with pixie sticks and find her phone. I sighed and got off of my bed, and walked to the small pile of books Sanity had said 'must read them as soon as you're done with whatever book you're reading now' that were in the corner of my room. I knew that was a run-on sentence, even with my lack of education.

I picked up the one on the top of the pile and looked at the title. _Witch and Wizard, _by James Patterson. I grinned and flopped down on my bed, and flipped the the first page.

About thirty minutes later, I was engrossed in the world of books and was flying through pages.

Skid yelled from her room, "Eurika!" I could just imagine her poking her head through a pile of junk and having her hand up like the Statue of Liberty (Which I've been on the torch of. Pretty sweet.) wearing a huge, triumphant smile.

I rolled my eyes and flipped the page, lost interest temporarily (ADD and I have had some good times together) and put the book mark in.

"Yo! Skid-Mark! You hungry?" I called out to her so she could hear me from where ever she was.

Silence. Then, "You're talking about takeout, aren't you?"

I glared at the wall, pretending it was Skid's head. "No. I was gonna make sandwiches."

"Oh. Sure, then! PBnJ, kay?"

"You got it," I said and exited my room, and walked to the kitchen. I pulled the jelly and peanut butter out of their apropriate places (AKA, fridge and cabinet), and pulled bread and two butter knives out and set to work on the masterpiece that is my cooking. Hah! I make myself laugh. I can't even cook toast without setting it on fire.

When I was done, I looked at the peanut butter on the butter knife, shrugged, and ran my tongue on it. It's still just as good. But not when your tongue finds the edge of the knife, and cuts you. I stuck my tongue out of my mouth and looked at it in the mirror image reflected back in the window in front of me, and watched as the cut healed before my eyes. Pretty cool, eh?

I heard the jiggling of keys and turned my head towards the door, my hand grasping the butter knife. Just as the door opened, and a hand came in, I threw the knife at the sleeve, and it got stuck in thew door frame.

"Good aim, Max," Jeb's voice said. Great. Just what I needed.

He got some 'splaining to do.

Thursday

We were innocently eating lunch, minding our own business. How many of you believed that? There is no "innocence" in my life. There's kick ass, bad ass-ness, and butt-kicking, _and absolutely no innocence. _But we can pretend, can't we?

But it was all ruined when James, being the blind almost albino he is, decided to flick pudding across the table from a spoon. And it landed in Skid's hair.

After so many years of being with Skid, there are four things that you never, ever, _ever, _do to her. If you do these things, you'll definetly be feeling it in the morning. If you ever feel anything ever again.

Those four things are one) Strap her to a chair, and wave Snow Caps in fron other nose, box open. I've seen this girl tortured before, and she didn't even cry, but taunt her with candy, she'll give you almost anything you want. Almost.

Two) Take away her coffee. Poor navy SEAL was on his knees begging for mercy in under a minute. I don't think his arm was ever the same again. Poor guy. But I told him not to touch her coffee . . . he didn't listen, obviously.

Three) Get something in her hair. The rule that applies to almost every girl out there, even me. Big shocker, huh? But he got _pudding _in her _hair. _Gross.

And four) Break these rules. I can do these things, because I'm cool like that, but the SEAL (not the cute ones that balance balls on their noses, but the ones with the really big guns) didn't have the privilage, and neither did James.

"Ohhhh, you are _soooooooo _DEAD," she growled.

Fang

Iggy, being the humongous idiot he is, decided to start a food fight. The problem? The pudding he decided to flick at some random person happened to land in Skid's hair. I've lived with three girls long enough to realize that when you get almost anything in their hair, all Hell breaks loose. Almost as bad as an Eraser fight.

"Ohhhh, you are _sooooooooo_ DEAD," she growled, and I saw Max pale.

Then, Skid launched herself at Iggy. An advantage of being outside for lunch is when someone decides to start a fight, you're no on hard floor. Instead, you're on grass. Which will leave grass stains on Iggy's light clothes, but whatever.

I went to break them up, but Max grabbed my elbow and hissed, "Unless you want to die, I wouldn't do that."

I raised and eyebrow, and looked back at the two that were fighting. And _DAMN._ She was beating his skinny white ass from here to the next year.

The fight finished with a circle aroud the two, chanting "Fight, fight, fight, fight!".

Skid was sitting on his chest, his wrists above hs head, and she hissed, "Apalogize."

He gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I'm sorry I got that tuff in your hair."

She smiled, but it was one of those smiles that was menacing and predatory. She took one of her hands off of his wrist and ran her fingers through her hair, depositing the chocolate pudding onto his face.

Now, you're probably wondering why I didn't stop Skid from beating the crap out of him. Well, ya see, when Iggy first became blind, he told us not to treat him any differently because he couldn't see. Guess he's kinda wanting to take that back right about now.

But this is good black mail. Cue evil laugh.

Max - after school - day off of work

"Are you want to do this?" I asked Skid.

She shrugged. "It was getting too long, anyways. 'Bout time I cut it."

I nodded and followed her to the salon chair, while the beauty stylist laid Skid's head back in the sink. I could see her muscles tense as Bertha - the stylist's name - massaged her head. The head is an easy place to kill someone, so it's hard to trust even your sister, much less a stranger, with it.

But there was no trouble, and soon enough, bits and pieces of Skid's hair was falling to the ground.

"Oh, no, no, no," a stylist behind me scolded, taking a piece of my hair between her fingers. "Such beautiful hair, ruined with this style . . . It must be changed."

I raised an eyebrow. Whenever my hair got in my way, I'd chop it off with a kitchen nife or my pocket knife, never even thought about a pair of scissors. For a genetically henhanced freak, I'm pretty stupid.

"Not gonna happen," I said and glared at her.

She flinched slightly, but smiled brightly and said, "Just a little snipping, and we'll be done." Then, she pushed me over to a chair, my heels dragging on the ground, and practically strapped me to the chair. Then, she pulled out instruments of torture. Scissors.

I hate this woman.

After hair cutting

"Max!" Skid said, studying my hair. "You look great!"

I glared at her. "I hate it."

She shrugged and smiled. "You'll grow into it. So? How do you like my hair?"

I smiled. "It looks great, Skid." Her hair was much shorter, looking a lot like Ashley Greene from _Twilight. _But her hair was its original color, with some small blond streaks in it, making her really look like a pixie. It was permanently straightened, and the stylist told her not to wash it for twenty-four hours so the straightening would stay.

My hair was also straightened, and had a few pink streaks in it. It barely grazed my shoulders, but only when I evened them. I didn't like it.

She frowned. "Max, stop pouting over your hair. It looks great, and the guys are gonna love it!" she sang and I did a face palm.

'Cause we all know that's exactly what I wanted.

**Meh. It was alright . . . but I've made a promise to** **myslef. I won't be making another story until I'm done with at least two of the ones I'm working on. So don't expect a new story any time soon.**

**Tank: But this is you we're talking about, so she might not keep that promise.**

**Me: Oh, I will. All imagination of new stories is put on hold!**

**. . . **

**. . . **

**. . .**

**Skid: It's not working out too well.**

**- Sanity**


	8. Ari

**Before note: I tweeked Pruit's aditude justa wee bit.**

**When Erasers attack!**

**Skid: Dun, dun, duuuhhh!**

**Me: But it'll happen later in the chapter. At least it's happening, right?**

**Tank: Yep. It was so dormant before this . . .**

**Me: Hey! Are you calling my work boring?**

**Tank: You call me boring all the time.**

**Me: Touche.**

**Claimer: Heh-heh. Hey, big lawyer dudes . . . I was just about to say I was kidding . . .**

**Big lawyer dudes: *Stays silent***

**JP: *whispers* Geez. You'd think they'd have more of a personality.**

_**Dis**_**claimer: Hear that, big lawyer dudes? I said DIS, as in . . . um . . . I don't own them, ok? Stop staring at me . . . It be creepy.**

Fang - Thursaday - after school

You know how I said Skid beating the crap out of Iggy could be good black mail? Well, I'm an idiot, so don't listen to me. The only proof I have of his being beaten the crap out by her is a broken nose and a black eye. But that doesn't mean I can't bother him about it now.

"What happened to Iggy?" Gazzy asked when we got in the house and Iggy stormed up to his room. I grinned.

"Iggy got beat up by a girl!" I yelled loud enough for him to hear.

"Shut the fuck up, Fang!" he yelled back.

"Iggy!" Anne screamed. "Language!"

"I'M GOING FLY TO A DESERTED ISLAND SOMEWHERE!" Iggy yelled.

"Better be careful!" Gazzy yelled, laughing. "There might be some girl monkeys that want a piece of you!"

I smirked. He would never live this down . . .

But then Gazzy turned to me. "Hey, Angel just told me that a girl beat you at running the mile. Is that true, Fang?"

I glared at him and walked away, leaving a cackling Gazzy behind me. This makes me sound like such a hypocrite. But Gazzy didn't have much room to talk. Nudge had put him in unpleasant situations many times before.

I live in a house full of hypocrites, myself being one of them. I hate girls. They make us guys seem like such jack asses.

My bed was still mesyy from this morning, so I decided to make it . . . Ha ha! You actually believed me, didn't ya? You know you did. Aw, c'mon. Don't lie to me!

But what I did do (No . . . not that.) was homework. Fun. Math. Boring. After about an hour of math, English, science, and history homework and finishing it, I was bored again. Iggy still wasn't back yet, so I couldn't tease him until he got here. So I decided to check out the blog.

Yes, the blog. Letting everybody know how much trouble the environment is in, blah blah blah, yada yada. But this time I wasn't going to write. I was going to check out the comments/conversations these people have. And some of these people are insane.

**Iggyshotr: Love, love, love, love the blog! And do you really have wings?**

**Fangsallmine: Betchya he does . . . **

**Deathtobieber: He does have wings. **

**TammyofMiani: You have no proof!**

**Deathtobieber: I don't need proof. I'm just cool like dat.**

**Iggyshotr: Uh-huh. Sure you are.**

**Deathtobieber: Ya know, when you pronounce your name, it sounds like 'Iggy shot her'.**

**Iggyshotr: It's supposed to be 'Iggy's hotter'. And I like Justin Bieber.**

**TammyofMiami: Sounds like a personal problem.**

**Fangsallmine: Can't we all get along?**

**DukeofPotland: Never!**

**Deathtobieber: War of the commenters . . . ers! **

**TammyofMiami: YEAH! YOU ARE GOING DOWN, IGGY SHOT HER!**

**Iggyshotr: IT'S IGGY'S HOTTER!**

**Deathtobieber: *laughing maniacally* My plan worked perfectly! I WILL RULE THE WORLD!**

**Blogowner: Um . . . remind me to never get on your bad side.**

**Fangsallmine: FANG!**

**Blogowner: No . . . it's, um, uh . . . damn.**

I logged off. Told ya these people were insane. I never want to meet Deathtobieber in a dark alley. And I'm probably stronger than her/him.

"Dudes and dudettes!" Iggy's voice called. "Flock meeting, now!"

I raised an eyebrow, closed my computer, and walked over to Iggy's room.

"What is it, Iggy?" Nudge asked, already sitting in his white desk chair. "Did Erasers attack or something? OH MY GOD, where's Jeb! Was he taken by the school? Are they gonna kill him! That would be so sad if they killed him! I mean, it would be really sad if they killed anyone, but do yo think they'd do it? That's so cruel! OMG, do you theink they'll come after us! It's been six years! The-"

"NUDGE!" Iggy yelled. "Shut up! My ears are bleeding!"

She glared at him but didn't say anything.

"What's up?" Gazzy asked, sitting on the floor.

"When I was out flying," Iggy said. "I heard wings."

I raised an eyebrow. "Iggy. Birds have wings."

He glared at me. "I mean _big _wings, Fang. At least ten feet."

"So?" Gazzy said. "Aren't there birds that have wings that can reach more than that?"

Iggy snorted. "Not hummingbird wings. Dude, a whole humming bird is like two inches long."

Weird silence.

"Hummingbird wings?" Angel asked. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Iggy said.

"What's up, Angel," Tank said. It was more of a demand than a question.

"In one of those rare moments when I can read Jeb's mind, I heard him think 'wings' and 'hummingbird'," she replied, going into deep think mode. She kept muttering things to herself like 'not possible . . . hummingbird . . . wings,' and things along that line of thought. When a normal eight year old startstalking to ones eight-year-old self, you send her to a therapist. When Angel talks to herself, it usually means she's saving our asses.

"Ok, so . . ." Nudge said. "Can we eat now?"

"I'm starving," Gazzy agreed and walked out of the room.

Angel, Tank, and Nudge followed him. Tank had that thinking look on his face that said, 'I know I know this.'

I was about to walk out of the room with them when Igy caught my elbow. "You believe me, right?"

I nodded, remembered he couldn't see me, and said, "Yeah. I think they all believe you. It's just kind of hard to believe, ya know?"

He nodded. "Well, I'm hungry. Let's go eat some food."

"Let's do it."

Max - Friday

This hair is so much lighter than my long hair. My neck isn't as hot, and I don't have to constantly flip it over my shoulder to get it away from my face. I'm still not thrilled over the pinck highlights, though.

"Max!" Skid yelled, shaking my shoulder. "Time to get up! We have school, remember?"

I groaned. "Five more minutes."

"No. I already gave you five minutes, now it's time to get up!" She pulled my arm, and pulled me off the bed. And the floor's wooden.

"I'm up, I'm up," I said and sat up, rubbing my eyes.

"Good. Don't go back to sleep." Skid walked out of the room, and I soon heard cabinet doors opening and closing.

Did you ever realize that when someone tells you not to do something, it just makes you want to do it more? Like, if there was an end of the world button and it said, 'Do not push,' your finger would magically levitate to the button and push it down, all the way, and the world would explode.

So, when Skid said 'Don't go back to sleep' I immediately put my head down and closed my eyes.

"Max! Get your ass off the floor!" Skid yelled. From the kitchen. She knows me too well.

"Ugh," I said and pushed myself off the floor, only to fall back down again. You know what time I fell asleep at? Three-thirty. It's six-thirty-six now. Do the math.

I successfully (Oh, yeah. I can use big words too.) pushed myself off the floor and walked to my closet, pulled out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I dressed and walked out of my room, to the bathroom, brushed teeth and hair, and went to the kitchen. Boring, right? Just wait a few hours. It'll change.

School

"Ms. Ride!" Mrs. Genny said, slamming her hand down on my desk. "This is the third time you've fallen asleep in my class this day!"

"Maybe because you're just boring," I said, venom lacing my words.

"To the prinicpal's office," she growled.

"I know the way," I said, stood up, grabbed my stuff, and walked out of the classroom. I had been to the principal's office at least four times this week. I had broken Dylan's nose, sprained Dylan's wrists, vandalized Dylan's locker, and got into about five fights with the football team, which Dylan is on. Still want to make fun of me?

I walked into Pruit's office, threw my bag at the foot of the chair, and slouched down in the seat.

Jenny looked at me over her glasses. "Again, Max?"

I nodded, grinning.

She sighed. "What did you do this time?"

"Fell asleep in class . . . three times."

She whistled. "A new record. Mr. Pruit will see you now, as alaways."

I nodded and slung my messenger bag over my shoulder and walked into Pruit's office.

"Hello, Max," he said and looked up from his book. "Would you like to get me a coke from the fridge? Thanks."

I threw my bag by the chair and opened the door to the mini fridge in the corner of his office, pulled out two cokes, and sat down in the chair. I handed him the coke and popped the tab of my own.

"What did you do this time?" he asked and took a swig from his coke. I did the same, but with my own.

I shrugged. "Fell asleep in class." I propped my feet up on his desk.

"Ah. How about you stay in here for about twen minutes, and then you can go back to class?"

"Sounds like a deal," I said and took another drink from my coke, before crumpling it up and tossing it in the trash bin beside his desk. I took out the book Sanity had given me and flipped to the page I had marked.

Skid

Periods were switching, and I was walking down the hall to my last class when Tyler caught up with me. My heart squeezed when he laced his fingers through mine.

"Do you want to come to my house after school? Ya know, so we could study or something," he said.

I raised an eyebrow. "Study or _study_?"

He blushed. "Just study. You know, for that math test we have on Monday?"

I gave a sigh of relief. I really liked him, but if he only like me like _that, _it was over. "Sure. But Max has to come."

"You two rarely go anywhere without each other, do you?"

I nodded. "Rarely."

"Cool," he replied and we went to history class.

Max

I sighed when Skid told me the plan. We hadn't ridden the motorcycles to school today, for some reason. I had just really wanted to walk to school today. Now I was regretting it.

"Fine, I guess," I said.

She squealed. "We have to walk there, but he said they have a short cut through the woods, so it won't take that long."

I nodded. "Cool."

So, that's how I met Krystal, Ariel, and Zephyr. Krystal talked way too much, Ariel was an angel, and Zephyr . . . James' partner in crime.

We were walking through the woods that lead to their house, Skid and Tyler holding hands, when I saw it. A flicker of movement in the corner of my eye. I shook my head and told myself it was just a squirel or something.

"You alright?" Nick asked beside me.

I was about to say, 'Yeah, fine,' but I saw it again. And I don't think squirels are six feet tall and have absolutely huge muscles.

"No," I said, backing up. "I gotta . . . I gotta go. Skid . . . c'omn." I grabbed her free hand and dragged her away from Tyler.

"Max, what's wrong?" she asked, trying to stop me.

"Erasers," I whispered and she paled.

"Sorry," she said. "We have to go." Then we started running.

But no. They couldn't let us go, could they? We were too valuable just to be left alone.

He of all people dropped in front of me. "Hello, Maxie. Enjoying your time off?"

I snarled and glared at him.

"Ari."

**Oooohhh. A cliff hanger.**

**Tank: No action!**

**JP: It was short.**

**Skid: I got to hurt Max . . . Hee-hee.**

**Me: Stay tuned for the next installment, when someone rips Max's favorite pair of jeans.**

**- Sanity**


	9. Mind Games

**The song in this chapter is **_**We Will Rock You **_**by Queen.**

**JP: Awesome song. **

**Tank: Badassness.**

**Skid: A.K.A: Flock theme song.**

**Me: Can't get enough of it.**

**Disclaimer: is **_**fan**_**fiction, not **_**author**_**fiction. If author fiction existed, everyone would be broke. Rule of life. These people, I don't own.**

Max

I walked over to the table, and put the tray down. I placed the drinks down on the table and walked away. I put the tray down on the counter and asked, "So what are you reading now?"

"A book," Sanity replied.

I widened my eyes. "No! _You _read a _book? _Are you _sure?_"

She looked up at me with that calm expression she always has. "Why, yes, I am."

"Huh. What's the title, dummy?"

She looked at the binding. "Uglies."

"Cool."

"Wanna sing tonight? And by want to, I meant have to," she said and I sighed.

"I guess." I walked to the stage and took the mic in my hands. A few heads turned towards me, anticipating what I was going to sing. I cleared my throat and started to stomp each foot once, then clap, then do it again. The cafe soon joins in the the rhythm.

_Buddy you're a big boy,  
Make a big noise,  
Playin' in the street,  
Gonna be a big man someday!_

_You got mud on yo' face,  
You big disgrace,  
Kickin' your can all over the place  
Singing,_

_We will, we will rock you!  
We will, we will rock you!_

_Buddy you're a young man,  
Hard man,  
Shoutin' in the street,  
Gonna take on the world someday._

_You got blood on yo' face,  
You big disgrace,  
Wavin' your banner all over the place!_

_We will, we will rock you!  
Singin' we will, we will, rock you!_

_Buddy you're an old man,  
Poor man,  
Pleading with your eyes,  
Gonna make you some peace some day._

_You got mud on yo' face,  
You big disgrace,  
Somebody better put you back into your place!_

_We will, we will rock you!  
Singin', we will, we will, rock you!  
Everybody, we will, we will, rock you!  
We will, we will, rock you!_

_*foot stomping/rocking out. Which ever you prefer*_

During the whole song, I was thinking about the stuff that had happened yesterday.

_Flashback_

_"Ari," I growled. _

_He grinned wolfishly. "Long time no see, huh, Maxie?"_

_"Not long enough." I mentally counted the Erasers. At least twenty five._

_His snarled at me. "I'd watch that sharp tongue. It might come back to stab you."_

_"Nah," I said, grinning. "I'll take my chances."_

_"Get 'em," he snapped at his cronies. "But don't bang them up too much - the Director wants them back alive."_

_The Erasers formed a circle around us, and Skid and I got back to back. _

_"Think we can take 'em?" I asked her, my eyes sweeping over the muscular, nipple-less (I just had to add it. What's a time in distress if there isn't a good joke?) bodies of the now thirty Erasers._

_Skid looked up at the trees. "We'll have to."_

_I looked up with her. CRAP. The forest was really thick, the trees layered on top of each other again and again. Did Nick, Tyler, and James lead us into a trap? No . . . they had those little kids with them! But they could have kidnapped them . . ._

_Me? Paranoid?_ _Nooooo . . . _WHICH ONE OF MY ENEMIES TOLD YOU THIS?

_Back to the issue at hand. I was completely surrounded my Erasers, ready rip my throat out with their teeth. In case you didn't know, that really, really, stinks. Would you like that thing you need to breath as much as oxygen and your lungs to be ripped out of your body? I didn't think so._

_It would really help me out if I had, like, laser eyes or metal knife things coming out between my knuckles. But nooooooo. Those stupid scientists had to give me wings. Don't get me wrong, I love having the freedom, the wind knotting my hair, tearing up my eyes. But laser eyes? That would seriously help out in a battle._

_See how distracted I get? An Eraser could have come at me, ripped my throat out, and I wouldn't even known it._

_"Max . . ." Skid whispered, obviously tense with the way her voice was. "Are you in there?"_

_"Sorry," I whispered back. "Well!" I yelled out to the Erasers. "Watchya waiting for? The apocalypse?"_

_They bared their teeth at me, and I shifted my feet into a more stable spot, suitable for fighting these man-beasts. It's show time._

_*Time break*_

_Apparently, the wolf men had the weakness every other man out there did: The family jewels. No wolf mutant babies for them. Aw. Too bad._

_But there was still about ten still standing, and they were fully morphed. _

_"Skid," I whispered, so it was only loud enough for her to hear. "U and A, in three."_

_"But, Ma-" she protested._

_"NOW," I said and whipped out sixteen feet of impossible. Skid did the same, pulling out eleven feet of green and purple wings. I beat them up and down, pushing powerfully, lifting off the ground in seconds. Skid followed._

_I shot upwards, through the tree branches, even though they scratched my face, neck, and arms. I ignored the branches, and grabbed Skid's arm when the Erasers flew after us. Yeah. They have wings too. But they're pretty clumsy. We're like ballet dancers and they're like . . . fridges with wings, basically._

_"Hold on tight," I said, and wrapped my arms around her torso. She pulled herself into me, knowing all too well what I was about to do. I flipped on the super-duper-high-speed and was out of Eraser grasp in seconds._

_Skid was screaming. We had never done this before. She had seen me go into high-speed before. She knew I would be gone in the blink of an eye, but never really experienced it first hand._

_I slowed down, and Skid said like she was drunk, "Never, ever, do that again."_

_I shrugged, letting her go. She wobbled a bit, but soon her hummingbird wings were beating at a fast pace to keep her super light body flying. I just hoped there wasn't any strong winds soon._

_"It was either that or become puppy-chow," I responded._

_"Super speed it is." _

_" Are you ok?" I asked._

_She nodded. "Are you?"_

_I looked down at myself. "No! They had ripped my favorite jeans! I'm glad they won't be having children."._

_She laughed._

_I hated to be the bearer of bad news but . . . ". . . You do know we have to leave, right?"_

_She closed her eyes for a second, and took in a slow breath. When she opened them again, it looked like she was fighting back tears. "Yeah. I know."_

_"Skid, I-"_

_"No," she said, her voice cracking. "It's fine."_

_It was my turn to take a deep breath. I loved Skid a lot. It hurt me to see her like this, so heart broken. She had her heart set on staying here, and she wanted to spend time like a normal kid, with a boyfriend and girl friends who'd she go to there house and paint their nails or whatever normal girls do. _

_But all that's kind of hard when you have wings, huh? Or how your heart beats at least two times faster than a humans. Or how you can hear air moving in your stomach. _

_Of course, we had to pass by the house to get out of town. And when we got there, would you like to guess who was in the backyard, waving his arms like a huge jackass? No one other than Jeb Batchelder. Thanks to raptor vision, I could see him perfectly from where I was in the sky._

_"Skid," I said, nodding towards the house. She nodded and moved her wings to catch the air, so she was angling towards the ground. I did the same, and soon landed on the ground in a not-so-graceful entrance._

_"What, Jeb? Want us here so you can set up another Eraser attack?"_

_He furrowed his brow. "No, Max. I had no idea that was going to happen."_

_"Then what is it, Jeb? We have to get out of here!"_

_"Max," he said. "You can't leave this town."_

_"Try and stop me," I said and spun on my heel, about to spring into the air._

_"Max. This town plays an important part in you saving the world."_

_Now some of you are probably like, 'Woah! Weren't expecting that, were ya, Maxie? Plot twist! Boo-ya!' _

_The other part's like, 'YOU'RE supposed to save the world? You can't even save the freaking pop tarts from the toaster! How are you supposed to save us? !' _

_Alright. One) Don't call me Maxie unless you want to lose motherhood/fatherhood. Two) I can too save the pop tarts from the toaster! They might have third degree burns, but they're edible! And three) I have no idea._

_So I'm supposed to save the world. Yeah. No pressure or anything._

_End Flashback_

Sanity

Max was singing again. I looked up from my book and through my glasses. Without these things, I'm as blind as a bat. Literally. But we'll get to that another time.

I tapped the right black frame of them, and my vision zoomed in on Max's face. She was always much calmer when she was singing. At peace.

A faint smiled played on my lips. I tapped the left frame, and I was sucked into Max's thoughts. She was remembering the attacks yesterday . . .

I frowned and burrowed myself deeper into her mind, careful not to go too far like I had a few years ago with an Eraser.

Red. Blood. Splatter. Kill. Black. Electricity. Needle.

I shuddered. I had done a lot to push those memories into the back of my mind. To keep them away from my all-seeing-eye. I pushed those thoughts back and kept my eyes on Max. There was a lot in her she had set up walls to keep people out of. I had promised Jamey I wouldn't go too far anymore, but . . .

A finger tapped my shoulder, and I instinctively reached for the hem of my skirt.

JP shook his head and glared at me. He leaned against the counter andcrossed his arms in front of his chest. "You had that look again . . ."

I sighed. "Sorry . . . I couldn't help myself."

James narrowed his eyes at me. "Who's mind were you looking into this time?"

My eyes scrambled across the room, until I found Sam. He was pretty frequent here. Especially when Max was here. "Him," I said, pointing. "Blond curly hair, blue eyes. I think he likes Max. He's kind of cute."

Jamey raised an eyebrow.

I rolled my eyes. "He's not my type."

"You have a _type_?" he asked, his voice shocked.

I gave him the 'duh' look. "Well, _yeah. _Everyone has a type."

"Uh-huh, sure."

I breathed out in relief. He had forgotten . . .

"And no, I didn't forget. You're still in _huge _trouble for your mind games."

Tank

"Hey, Skid!" I called. I swear, she was avoiding me. She hadn't talked to me this morning, I hadn't seen her between the first three periods, and Max seemed to be avoiding all of us.

But I had Skid now. Lissa was next to her, and she said, "Um . . . I'll leave you two alone." And she walked away, super high heels clicking down the floor.

"Skid," I said, walking up to her. "Are you alright?"

She looked up at me, into my eyes. "Yeah. I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

I shrugged. "You and Max left in such a rush yesterday, I was wondering if you were alright."

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes like it usually did. It was more of a strained, forced smile. "Yeah. I'm fine."

"So why'd you leave so suddenly?" I asked.

"Um . . . I'd rather not talk about it," she replied nervously.

"Are you mad at me?" I asked. There. Out with it.

"No! Why would I be?"

I shrugged and scuffed my feet along the floor. "I don't know. You just seemed really distant."

She shook her head. "I'm fine. Are you alright?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine. I'll see you later?"

"Yeah," she replied. She got on her tip-toes (Literally. I don't know how people do that.) and gave me a light kiss. "Later." Then she walked to her next class.

Something was wrong with Skid. And I was going to find out.

**Ohhhh. So I do have a part rather than just sitting there. I'm liking this . . .**

**Tank: We apologize for the lack of action in this chapter. Someone can't do good fight scenes.**

**Me: Meh.**

**JP: What exactly can you do in this fic?**

**Me: A lot.**

**Tank: That's just what we need. Give the crazy girl power. **

**Skid: Genius!**

**- Sanity**


	10. Hummingbird Wings

**I have not deserted you, my friends!**

**Tank: They don't think you're their friend.**

**Me: Gasp! Tank, you're supposed to think positive!**

**JP: . . . What are you **_**on**_**?**

**Skid: I dunno what she's on, but it must be something really stong if she's saying 'think positive.' Being the pesimist she is and all.**

**Disclaimer of the pesimist: I don't own this. I will never own this. No one will ever own the Maximum ride series, or James Patterson. We're all doomed.**

Max - Tuesday

I woke up at about five thirty in the morning. Why? 'Cause I had a really bad dream. The kind that haunts you even when you wake up, and it's hard to not look over your shoulder, or close your eyes. So, instead of rolling over and going right back to sleep, I stood up, rubbed my eyes, and exited my room.

So, I walked down the small hall and into the kitchen, to find Skid sitting in the kitchen, at the table, chewing on a nail like she always does when she's really thinking things through.

"'Sup?" I asked her, opening the fridge door and pulling out the milk jug. _Sloosh, slush, sloosh, slush. _Milk always helps me sleep. I pulled out a glass from the cabinet and poored myself a glass.

"I'm thinking about . . ." she said, but trailed off, biting her nail again.

"'Bout what?" I asked and took a sip of milk. Yummy.

"Telling him," she muttered, but I heard her.

I raised an eyebrow. "Telling who what?"

"Telling Tyler about the wings," she said.

My eyes widened considerably, and I put the glass down on the counter. "Why would you do that? We could end up in a zoo if poeple find out about our wings!"

"I know . . ." she said quietly.

I sighed and lowered my voice, knowing I was making her feel bad about the thought. "Then why would you tell him about your wings?"

"I just feel terrible!" she exclaimed. "Keeping this huge secret from him." She slouched down in her seat, resting her head in her arms.

"I would say I know how you feel, but I don't," I replied. "So I'm going to stick with go with what your heart feels?"

"That sounds like some cheesy lyric from a song," she said, her words muffled by her arms.

"Meh. It might be for all I know," I said. "But what does your heart want?"

Alright. This is me we're talking about. I'm not an emotional therapist. I'm not even close to a mental therapist. I might need one, but I am not one. I think if I was a therapist, I'd be like that guy on the comercial: 'And I think that's why yellow makes me sad.' 'Insulting words. Wanna tissue?' *throws tissue box across the room* 'Yah pansy.' Yep. That's totally something I would do. Definetly.

But here I am. Giving emotional advice to my sister/mutant freak best friend. And I think I'm doing a pretty damn good job at it.

"My heart wants to push the little green button on my phone so I can tell him everything and feel better about myself. I hate lying to him," she said, and I nodded. "But my head's saying, 'Don't you dare. You'll be put in the insane asylum, and he'll run for the hills just to get away from your crazy ass.'"

"Hmm . . . Both your brain and your heart bring up good points," I said, making her chuckle lightly. "But as the judge . . . I have to say your head has a better case."

She sighed. "Yeah, I know. But it's just . . . really hard keeping that big secret from him."

School

When I was going to lunch, Dylan made a move. AGAIN.

"'Sup, Max?" he asked.

"What do you want, Dylan?" I asked. It was either he wanted a kiss, a partner in saving the world with Dr. Googen Hime (You say I didn't tell you about him? The dude that created Dylan. Super rich. Super powerful. Super scientist-y. Not my favorite kind of person.), or to go skipping through fields of rainbows, where'd we meet our magical unicorns and ride off into the sunset! I'd rather get punched by an Eraser ten times in the gut than do anything of those things. Oh, yeah.

"A date, Max," he said, smiling brightly. He had that smile that was just . . . perfect. He was the poster child for perfection. He had turquoise eyes and sandy blond hair, blindingly white teeth, and he looked like a walking, talking Ken Doll. Yes, I did just have an image of the guy from Toy Story Three. And you totally know you thought Barbie said, "I like your ass cut." You know you did.

"You, me, Saturday, at eight," he said, giving me one of those smiles. But, luckily, I was immune to the Mr. Perfects dazzling smiles that would make any other girl melt into a big 'ol pile of mush.

"Not sorry," I said, waving a hand. "Busy."

"Friday."

"Ooh, not good either. Can't say I'm disapointed."

"C'mon, Max," he said. "Give me a chance."

I lowered my voice and hissed, "Why should I? So your Dr. Whats-his-face gets his perfect expiriment? No thanks."

"So you're just going to ignore the obvious?" He grabbed my arm and pulled me back. Or, more likely, yanked me back. My arm was really warm where his hand touched, but it was one of those 'Ok, this is uncomforatable' warmths. Like, in the middle of the summer, and you're lying in a pile of animal furs or something. "We were made for one another, Max."

"Let me-"

"She's not interested," Nick's deep voice cut through mine. "Or are you just going to ignore the obvious?"

I smirked and pulled my arm free of Dylan's grasp. My arm was already bruising. I raised my voice and yelled, "If you ever touch me like that again you perv, I'll press charges!" Then I slapped him. Hard. And it felt so. Freaking. Good.

I turned on my heel and walked in the direction of the cafeteria, Nick at my side.

"Thanks," I muttered.

"What?" he asked, cupping his ear. "I couldn't hear you."

I glared at him. "You know damn well what I said."

He chuckled slightly. "Uh-huh. Sure I do."

Lunch

"Who was the first person you kissed?" James asked Skid.

Skid turned to Tyler and smiled slightly. I could tell it was killing her inside, keeping the wings hidden from him. But she was sticking it through, like the tought girl I know she is.

"Aw," Lissa said. "That's sweet."

"Ta-Tyler?" Iggy said and I raised an eyebrow. I think he was hoping no one would notice his slip, but I did.

"Skid," Tyler said, smiling.

James sighed. "Lissa?"

"My first crush. Harry-"

"Potter?" Nick and I asked at the same time. Weird.

Lissa glared at us. "No. Not a fictional character. Harry Genson. He moved when he was fourteen."

"I remember that dude . . ." James said. "Who was your first kiss, Nick?" he asked, snickering.

Nick glared at him. "You already know the answer to that question."

"Yes, yes, we all know Nick hasn't kissed anyone yet," James said, laughing.

"I don't so what's so funny," I snapped.

"Oh, c'mon, Max," Lissa said. "Don't you think it's a little funny? He's sixteen and he hasn't kissed anyone yet."

"Well, neither have I," I said honsetly, crossing my arms in front of my chest. I don't think it's that funny.

The table fell silent. Then they were laughing their asses off. Well, mainly Lissa and Iggy, but Skid and Tyler were snickering.

"Seriously?" Lissa asked. "But you're so . . . pretty, it's hard to believe you've never had a boyfriend."

"Believe it," I said, blushing a little bit.

"Well, I still can't believe neither of you have kissed anyone," James said.

"Alright. It's not a big deal, anyway, but if you want both of us to kiss someone so badly," I said, turned toward Nick put his head between my hands, and kissed him.

Fang

Iggy was doing something he does every once in a while (Please, don't go there.) where he wants to know something personal about someone. Sure, who was the first person you kissed wasn't that personal, but still.

Then he turned to me, and I glared at him. "You already know the answer to that question."

"Yes, yes, we all know Nick hasn't kissed anyone yet," Iggy said, laughing. I glared harder, but it was wasted on the blind kid.

"I don't see what's so funny," Max snapped, surprising me. She probably had plenty of experience kissing guys since she was so . . . perfect. WTF? WHAT THE HELL? Did I just use WTF? I feel like I'm turning into a teenage girl. And I don't like that feeling.

"Oh, c'mon, Max," Lissa said. "Don't you think it's a little funny? He's sixteen and he hasn't kissed and any one yet." Way to make me feel good, Lissa.

"Well, neither have I," Max said. That really shocked me.

Silence. Then Lissa and Iggy were laughing, Skid and Tank snickering. They didn't have much room to talk - or laugh - so I'd sprain something of Tank's later. Max was blushing, and I coughed trying to cover mine.

"Seriously?" Lissa asked, her laughing over. "But you're so . . . pretty, it's hard to believe yu'd never had a boyfriend."

"Believe it," Max said. I was still a little shocked that she had never kissed any one. Lissa was right when she said Max was pretty.

"Well, I still can't belive neither of you have kissed anyone," Iggy said.

"Alright. It's not a big deal, anyway, but if want bothof us to kiss someone so badly," Max said and turned towards me, put my head beteen her hands, and kissed me.

Our lips barely brushed against each other, but electricity ran through my lips. She had those lips that weren't too full that it made it awkward to kiss someone, or the ones that were really thin and hard to kiss period. And the lip ring? Only made it better. Yes. I could tell all that fro just her lips brushing against mine. I'm just good like dat.

Dylan

Max blew me off. AGAIN. But this time I wasn't taking no for an answer. I've heard it all again and again since I was fourteen: No. No. Never in a million, bajillion, katrillion years. And not if you were the last man alive.

So, instead of just letting her walk away, I grabbed her arm and yanked her back. She looked a quarter uncomfortable, and the rest of her was ready to rip my throat out. But I didn't care. I was done with caring what she wanted.

"We weremade for one another, Max," I growled. Wasn't it obvious? Did she not get excited when were in the same room together? Did she not feel electricity running up and down her spine like I had now? Did she not know that we were _perfect together?_

"Let me-" she started, but someone cut her off.

"She's not interested," Nick said. "Or are you just going to ignore the obvious?"

I hate it when people use my words against me.

Max pulled her arm free of my grip and yelled, "If you ever touch me like that again you perv, I'll press charges!" The she slapped me. HARD. It stung, and would probably leave a bruise for a long while.

Nick and her walked away, and I heard them talking.

One thing was certain: I. Hate. Nick. With everything I have.

Lunch

My eyes hurt from glaring at Nick so much. He was just . . . UGH. Yep. That's what he was. An UGH. It sounds . . . disgusting. We'll settle for jackass.

But then it happened. Max turned to Nick, and kissed him. KISSED. HIM. Yep. Now I was pissed.

What was he doing with _my _girl? What was his problem, really? Did he just get a kick out of messing with me? Of making me insane? Max and me were perfect for one another, and he was ruining it.

If you haven't caught on: I. HATE. NICK.

Tank - Wednesday

I have yet to figure out what was wrong with Skid. She's super distant, really quiet, and never meets my eye anymore. I had tried talking to her about it, but she brushes it off and says she's fine, which she obviously isn't. And it's hard to ignore the scracthes on her neck and arms. Did her dad hurt her? Her mom? Max? I highly doubted Max could hurt Skid. She walks and talks in a way that says, 'I'll kill you if you touch a hair on her head.' But she's only a human, probably barely stronger than any other human girl out there. But Skid sure as Hell beat the crap out of Iggy that one day . . .

So, right now, I was hovering/flying around the area of Skid's house, making sure she was ok. Yes, yes, very creeper-ish. But if you liked someone very, very, very much, and you could fly, wouldn't you do it, too, just to make sure they weren't getting hit? Or worse?

Max had just left the house on her super badass motorcycle, and I think Skid was still in the house. I waited about thirty minutes, when I was just about to leave, satisfied that I wasn't hearing anything too loud, which meant someone was being hit, the back door opened. Skid walked out and slowly walked to the edge of the forest that lined the back of their house. She shed her jacket - even thought was really, really cold - and did something that all but made my eyes pop out of my head.

She sprouted _hummingbird wings._

**Mwahahahahahaha! **

**Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I've had a lot of writing assignments in English, slept the last two nights at my cousin's house, and . . . that's about it.**

**Tank: I like the ending. It was in my POV.**

**Skid: How did I not see him?**

**Me: You never thought to look up.**

**JP: When will you be revealed to everyone?**

**Me: When I feel like it.**

**- Sanity**


	11. Aw, Shit

**I feel like crap. 'Nuff said.**

Skid

I laid in my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I felt like I was going to die if I didn't tell Tyler about my wings. The guilt was eating me alive. But what was I supposed to do? Tell him and end up in a cage, _again_? No thanks. I'd rather live with the guilt of this huge secret, feeling like the weight of the world was on my shoulders. Or . . . I could get out of town, ASAP. But where would that leave Max, exactly? She was supposed to save the world, and Jeb said this town played an important part in it, and I would never ever leave Max. EVER. Under any circumstances, I would never leave Max. We'd been together since birth, almost literally.

I sighed and rolled onto my side. Yep. Those words totally sound the same. See what I do to amuse myself?

"Skid?" Max's voice said from my doorway. "I'm going to work. You alright?"

I propped myself on my elbows and looked at Max. Jeans and a t-shirt, as usual. I smiled. "Yeah. I'm cool."

She eyed me, like decided if I was alright to stay by myself. "Alright . . . come by if you get lonely or whatever. Later."

"Later," I said, and fell back onto the flower printed bedspread. It wasn't a wimpy flower print, like a grandmas, but a cool one. I liked it.

I stayed in my room for about thirty minutes, debating the pros and cons of telling Tyler about the wings.

Pros: No more guilt.

Cons: I get sent to a zoo, I might not ever see Max again, I end up in a cage (Again.), needles will probably protrude my skin twenty-four/seven . . . must I go on?

I think my cons win. So, now, I have come to the decision to live with my guilt. To make myself feel better, I decided to go for a fly. Flying is like a second nature, an instinct that you just can't resist. Your wings are just _part _of you, and you can't just get rid of them, or forget about them. Even if they align to your spine perfectly, or just sink into your back, you know they're there. You can feel them.

I stood up from my bed, and walked to the hallway, and out the back door. You're probably wondering, How on earth does a house as small as yours have a backdoor? Good question. I have no idea who made the house, but they were just being stupid when they did. I mean, the front door and back door are basically three small rooms and one tiny bathroom apart. Not that hard to get to the front door.

I slowly walked to the edge of the woods, shed my jacket, and extend my wings. It just felt so . . . good to let my wings out of my back. Now only if I could have them this way all the time.

I sprinted into the trees, trying to get enough momentum to push off without really jumping. I did. I was in the air in seconds, my wings beating quickly, making a humming noise, hinting the name 'hummingbird'. I zipped past trees, narrowly dodging branches, some still scratching my clothes and arms and sometimes my faced. It felt good with the wind in my face, knotting up my much shorter hair, my wings beating faster than a real hummingbirds . . .

But it all felt wrong somehow. Like someone was watching me . . . Could it be an Eraser? Flyboy? A new experiment of the school? Worse?

I looked up, but the trees were too thick to see anything. I looked from side to side, but only saw more trees and vines and nature. It was probably just paranoia that had been branded into my brain, but in case it wasn't, I sped up a little. The feeling was still there, so I sped up a lot.

I was going much faster than I had ever gone on my own, not counting the time Max had gone warp drive on my ass. That was probably the most adrenaline I had ever had in my body, and there was so much of it it made it hard to fly. I had been wobbly, shaky, and it was hard to keep my wings from going as fast or faster then they were now.

Tears from the wind blurred my vision, and I escaped hitting a tree by about an inch. But my wing didn't. The tip slammed into the rough tree, sending shivers through it. I tried to flap, but . . . it just wouldn't _work_. I stayed aloft for about three seconds, then I was falling to the ground. It all seemed to be happening in slow motion: The fall; the trees were blurred and clumped together, and they seemed to have faces, laughing at me. My head hitting the hard ground; a burst of pain hitting the back region, making me moan. The pain in my arm; even though I couldn't see it, I knew it wasn't supposed to bend that way. My poor, poor wing; it was definitely broken in several places.

And the shadow that was swooping over me, looking like the Angel of Death that had come to take me where ever it is bird kids like me go.

Thirty minutes later

"Wha happin'?" I slurred, moaning with the struggle it took just to say those two fragments of words. I opened my eyes slightly, and found I was looking at the living room/dining room/kitchen's ceiling. That's weird. The last thing I remembered was going flying . . .

"Skid!" Tyler's voice said. When had he gotten here? "Are you alright?"

"Wha happin'?" I asked again, and closed my eyes, feeling like I was going to barf.

"You fell while you were, uh, flying," he said quietly.

That made my eyes widened, and my body snap into the sitting position. Unfortunately, my right arm and right wing seemed to be broken. And it hurt like Hell to even move in the slightest. I felt like I was going to puke again.

"Slow down," Tyler said. "You might hurt something. What should I do?" He sounded really worried, and it was, well, relieving that he cared and wasn't freaking out after he found out about the wings.

I slowly laid back down on the itchy and lumpy couch that belonged in the seventies, and gritted my teeth. "Call . . . Max," I said, as I slowly faded back into an unconscious state.

Max

I walked into the Corner Cafe, and walked straight to the counter, where Sanity sat as usual, reading a book.

"Hey, Max," she said and didn't look up from the book.

"'Sup?" I asked, tying one of those waist aprons around my - you got it - waist. Wow, we have a smart bunch this time!

"I got some new earrings. Wanna see?" she asked, putting her book down.

"Sure," I said. She was going to show me anyway. She lifted up the hair that was covering her right ear so I could see the three earrings. The bottom was a hook earring, and had a circle connecting it with a skull through the eye. The middle was a small black rose. The highest one was two chains, on black, connecting to a black key. The other was silver was black beads connecting to a silver star. **(A/N: Pictures on profile, along with Max's lip ring, helmet, and motorcycle.)**

"Sweet," I said.

"Yep," she replied, smiling. "When I first got the piercings, JP almost kicked my ass out of the house. Or apartment."

"Really?" I asked, lifting an eyebrow. "He doesn't seem like the kind of guy that would really care."

"Oh, he does," JP said, coming down from the spiral staircase that led to the apartment.

"But he warmed up to them," Sanity said, smirking at her uncle. "But he said, and I can quote, 'If you get one more piercing, I'll pull them out with pliers.'"

I winced slightly, but couldn't help the laugh that escaped my lips. The tone she had used was just hilarious. It was the classic, cliche fake voice of a guy any other girl uses when they impersanate them.

"And I wasn't joking," JP said.

"Of course you weren't," I said.

"Max?" Sanity said, pulling a tray out. "Take this food to table two."

"Got it," I said, picked up the tray, and walked to table two.

That's what I did for about an hour, until I had stopped at the guy, Sam's, table. He sat in the same table everyday, but always ordered something different.

I grinned at him. "You're here a lot, aren't you?"

He smiled, and I noticed he was really cute. Not like, 'How, this baby is so cute.' More like, 'I totally want to kiss him,' cute.

"So are you," he replied.

"Hm . . . is that just coincidence, or are you stalking me?" I asked, my tone flirty. I had never used this tone ever, and it just felt so . . . powerful. I now understand why some whack-job might want to rule the world.

"I believe I was here before you, so you'd be stalking me," he corrected.

"Good point," I said. "So what do you want to eat?"

"Ice cream with you, Friday, six?" he asked, shocking me.

"Sure," I found myself saying. WHAT THE HELL? WHY WAS I SAYING YES? GOD DAMMIT, GOD DAMMIT, GOD DAMMIT! CURSE YOU STUPID HORMONES THAT SEEM TO CONTROL MY MIND!

Well, no backing out now. I wrote my cell phone number on the paper pad, and ripped it out, handing it to him. He smiled and accepted it, putting it in the pocket of his dark blue jeans.

Then my phone rang. Huh. That's weird. I just give my phone number to a guy, and my phone rings. And, obviously, it isn't him.

I took my phone out of my pocket and flipped it open. "Yellow?"

"Uh, hey, Max," Tyler's voice said through the phone. (My eyebrow rose . Why was he calling me?) "Um . . . you should come back to the house. Skid's hurt."

Yep. That was all it took to seriously piss me off. I closed the phone, untied the waist apron, threw it at the counter (I was seriously shocked when Sanity caught it without looking up from her book.) sprinted out the door, and jumped into the air, not caring who saw me. And it all happened in about thirty seconds. SKILL, right there.

I shot through the sky, going top speed. I actually almost passed the house up, but managed to do a few front flips in the air before I could pass it up. I landed in my version of grace, which is basically almost twisting my ankle and falling to my knees. The knees of my jeans tore with a _riiiip, _but I immediately stood back up and sprinted into the house through the back door (Why on Pluto is there a back door in this tiny house?). I immediately went to the living room, where I found Tyler crouching by a half conscience Skid.

I glared at him so hard, pitchforks were probably shooting out of my eyes. I wanted to kill him. How exactly how had she gotten hurt? I don't know, but I still want to kill him. So, I rushed to him, where he was now standing. I pushed him against the wall, and then fisted his shirt and lifted him up off the ground, adrenaline fueling my strength.

"What did you _do_?" I hissed, my upper lip lifting to form a snarl.

"N-nothing," he insisted. "She fell when she was f-flying."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I don't believe you."

"Max," Skid croaked from the couch. "I did fall when I was flying. Oh, shit, I'm gonna puke."

I whipped my head around to look at Skid, letting Tyler's feet hit the ground again. And _damn _did Skid look bad. Her arm was at an awkward angle, and one of her wings was just . . . lying there. Her skin had a greenish tint to it, and she looked like she was a bout to throw up. There was a trash can next to her, and it seemed that she had already puked.

I rushed over to Skid, and pulled her short amount of hair away from her face. One thing was going through my mind:

_How the fuck had Tyler found out about the wings?_

Thursday

"Ok, let me get this straight," I said, narrowing my eyes slightly. "Your real names are Fang, Iggy, Tank, Nudge, Angel, and Gazzy?"

They nodded. Nick was Fang, James Iggy, Tyler Tank, Krystal Nudge, Ariel Angel, and Zephyr Gazzy. (Don't ask. I've experienced the torture before.)

Right now, it was about ten at night, and we (SKid and I.) were in N- my bad, Fang, Iggy, and Jame's living room, and they had finished explaining _everything_. From how it had been them that had rescued us from the Institute (Fang, with the big ego of his, said we should thank him for rescuing damsels in distress. I flipped him off.) to the wings to, well, anything else we asked. But I had one more thing that I had to ask, and I'll do it in (Super deep, slow mo. voice.) _movie format._

_*All the young bird-kids were gathered around the living room, laying on the floor in sleeping bags. Max, being the daring bird-kiddy she always has been, decided to ask the question she had been wondering about since Fang had said he never kissed a girl*_

_Max: Fang, are you gay?_

_Everyone else besides Fang: *shocked*_

_Fang: Are you?_

_Max: *doesn't miss a beat* No. Are you?_

_Fang: *hangs head in shame* Yes._

_Everyone: WHAT?_

_Fang: *looks up and grins* Nah. I'm just fucking with you._

_Everyone: *breaths out in relief*_

SKID INFO: Skid had broken a wing when she clipped it on a tree, and lost her memory of it when she fell and the back of her head hit the ground. We set it again, and it was almost completely better, barely even a day later. She had broken her arm when she hit the ground, too, but that was already healed and as good as new. She and Tank were again together, and Skid didn't seem to have the weight of the world on her shoulders any more.

I smiled as I remembered when we first got here.

_*flashback*_

_Turns out, Tyler or Tank or whomever he was, did have wings, and he was making sure Skid wasn't getting beat or anything, since he noticed scratches on her arms and neck. I decided to let him live and have children when he got older._

_And when I first saw the house, I admit my jaw dropped. It was surrounded by about forty-four acres of land, and was an old farm house. And it was about two stories, and really big. _

_I got off of my motorcycle, and swung my stuff over my shoulder. I didn't have much stuff: Clothes, a few books, and a crappy old laptop. Jeb had suggested we move into the house of the other winged, and I almost slapped him across the face. Why didn't he just tell me they're were more kids with wings here, that big dofus? _

_Anne met us at the door. She was the one who owned the farm house, and had basically raised the Fang and the others. She welcomed us with a warm smile and said, "You must be Max. Jeb told me about you."_

_I raised an eyebrow. "Exactly how much did he tell you?"_

_"Enough to know that you're paranoid, don't trust many people, and will have a hard time adjusting to a new house," she said._

_I nodded. "Then he told you just enough."_

_She smiled. "Then come in, and you'll adjust sooner."_

_I grinned. "Guess so."_

_"I'm Skid," Skid said. _

_"Jeb told me about you, too," Anne said. "You and Max are . . . close, right?"_

_"Closer than Siamese twins," Skid said, smiling. Well, it was true. We had practically been together at birth, had cages right next to one anothers, kept each other company when we might have gone insane. _

_We climbed the stairs to the second story, and Anne said, "Sorry I can't give you both your own room. I have already have six kids, myself, and Jeb living in the house."_

_"No problem," Skid said. "We've lived in tighter spaces than a single room before."_

_Anne nodded, and opened a door. "Well . . . this is it." We walked into the bright room. The walls were painted a sky blue, the ceiling white, and two windows above the two beds, that both had white and blue bed spreads. _

_"It's nice," I said. _A little too nice, _I thought to myself._

_"Well, I'm going get some food," Skid said. "I'm starving." She threw her bag onto the closest bed, and walked out of the room with a quick 'Thanks for the room' thrown over her shoulder at Anne._

_I crossed my arms in front of my chest and said, "You do realize that we don't really like you, right?"_

_"I figured," Anne said._

_An awkward silence. Then I said, "You don't happen to have any Red Bull in the house, do you?"_

_She raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, why?"_

_"Hide it," I said. _

_"Why?" Anne asked._

_Then we heard it._

_"OH. MY. GOD. THEY'VE GOT RED BULL AND MONSTER!"_

_Aw, shit._

_*end flashback*_

**Still feeling like crap.**

**RnR?**

**- Sanity**


	12. Hell Have No Fury

**Max: O.O**

**Fang: O.O**

**Skid: *giggles***

**Tank: *shakes head* This is going to be interesting . . .**

**JP: I'm with my characters: O.O**

**Me: Ah. I love when my chapters get these kind of reactions.**

**Disclaimer: So . . . we meet again. *funky kung fu moves* NOOOO! DISCLAIMER AS BEATEN ME AGAIN! I STILL DON'T OWN MAXIMUM RIDE!**

Thursday night

You guys know I have serious trouble trusting people. So, we'll just say that I didn't sleep very well my first night at the farm house. AKA: I didn't get a wink of sleep.

Skid, on the other hand, was snoring like a trucker on the opposite side of the medium size room since I had saved her from the Monster and Red Bull. Or should I say saved everyone from Skid while she was on a Monster/Red Bull high? But that wasn't what was bothering me. I had lived with Skid for sixteen years, fourteen of those she had snored just like she was now.

But the part that was bothering me was just the house its self. When you're in a different place, you keep expecting a little girl or some creepy guy to come behind you, holding a knife splattered with blood of your best friend (Sanity has been making me watch too many horror movies.).

I tossed and turned for what seemed like an hour, but was actually three. And - get this - I had a curfew. A freaking _curfew. _That's ri-ight. Anne had laid down the rules of the house.

I would give you a flashback, but I'm too hyped up on nerves and a teensy-weensy bit of adrenaline to concentrate on one thing at a time. For instance, I could be in the middle of the flashback, and a Eraser wearing a purple tutu holding a faerie-princess wand could jump out of the toaster, singing like Justine Beaver on a bad day.

I heard a snicker. I jumped onto my feet, on the bed, the springs creaking, and looked around the room. But it felt like it was coming from my _head. _

Skid rolled over, snorted, and went back to her trucker-like snoring. I sighed, realizing I wasn't getting any sleep, pulled on some shorts (Yeah, I sleep in my underwear. Is that a problem?), and exited the room Anne had given me to sleep in. I wasn't going to say it was _mine, _because it wasn't.

I tip-toed down the hall, my sock-clad feet (So I sleep in my underwear and wear socks to sleep. So shoot me.) making unbelievably loud noises as they gently touched the ground. Maybe it was just my nerves. Maybe it wasn't. Guess we'll never know.

I quietly and quickly went down the stairs on the balls of my feet, walked to the kitchen, and opened the fridge.

_Holy mother bleeper . . ._

I was in heaven, really. There was food upon shelf of freaking food. I could probably live off of everything in the fridge for about a month, and this is from the girl that eats more than a fully grown man with a tape worm.

But I went for the milk. Then, I went for a hunt a glass or cup or whatever you'd like it to be called. Something you put liquid you wanted to drink in.

Finally, I found it, and poured myself a glass of milk. Put the milk back into the fridge, blah blah blah. Just wait for it.

Just as I was exiting the kitchen I ran into a brick wall. And spilled my milk all over the brick wall's shirt.

"Shit," I muttered.

"Language," James/Iggy replied, and when I squinted, I could see the grin on his face.

"Whatever. What are you doing up?" I asked.

"I heard something," he replied. He hastily added, "Thought it was an Eraser attack or something."

"Mm-hm," I said, rolling my eyes. "Sure you did. Sorry about your shirt . . ." I added, and looked at his drenched shirt. I like milk, ok? Jeez. Stop bothering me about it.

He shrugged. "Not a problem." Then he took it off. Right in front of me. Yeah, that totally just happened.

"Damn," I breathed. He had an eight pack. A very pale eight pack, but an eight pack. Well muscled arms, shoulders, you know the drill.

"I heard that," he said, and I could hear the smirk in his face.

I acted sly, even though I knew I was burning up 'cause my face was so hot. "I know," I replied, and went back upstairs.

Fang

Don't you hate alarm clocks? They're just really annoying. Like, _ringy-dingy, ringy-dingy, time to wake up, time to wa- ALRIGHT, WE FREAKING GET IT!_

Unfortunately, my alarm clock had no snooze button. What kind of alarm clock has no snooze button? you ask. Well, the kind that's eight years old and is in your head at all times, even though you warned her that you might strangle her if she keeps it up. She brushed the threats aside.

_Faaaang, _Angel said in my head. (Mm-hm. *z-snap* I can rhyme, too.) _Time to wake up._

_Go away, Angel._

_No. NOW GET UP, BEFORE I HAVE TO SEND GAZZY IN THERE._

I was up in record time.

_Good, _Angel said in that 'Ha-ha, I totally just won. In yo face' voice that was such a strong mixture of sweetness and evil-dictatorship, it makes you want to barf.

Since I hadn't taken a shower last night, I grabbed a random pair of jeans and a shirt, and walked down the hall to the bathroom. Since I was still half asleep, I didn't even hear the water running and turning off, the squeak of the shower curtain as it moved to the side.

I opened the door. And walked in on Max. Completely naked. And she was facing me.

Oh, yeah. That totally just happened.

I'm not going to tell you what I saw. But my eyes turned into the size of dinner plates, and I couldn't even _react. _

Max was just as shocked as I was, but she recovered first. "AH!"

"AH!" I replied.

"AHHHHHH!" both of us said at the same time.

"CLOSE THE DOOR, DUMB ASS!" Max yelled at me.

I closed the door.

Max - Friday evening whatever - Corner Cafe

"And then he walked in on me," I said, and let my head fall onto Sanity's shoulder.

"Whoa," she said.

"Yeah," I said.

"That stinks," she said, and patted my head.

"I'm not a dog. Please don't pat my head," I said, but my tone was teasing.

Just to annoy me, she patted my head again. "Whatever, Maxie."

I rolled my eyes and leaned back in my seat, and groaned. "Why is business so . . . _slow_?"

There were only about three people in the cafe. Us included. JP was the third, stocking the shelves with a few new novels he had bought from somewhere. Or stole them. You could never tell with these two.

"Because you're supposed to be going on a date," Sanity said, fluttering her eyelashes.

"Wha- oh, _fuck_," I said, remembering Sam. "But why are you closing because I'm not going to be here?"

Sanity shrugged. "You're our only waitress waiter person."

I stared at her. "Why do you only have one?"

She gave me a look. "Max, have you seen this place? It's so small, that's all we need."

"What do you do when I'm _not _here?" I asked.

She gave me another look. "Did you ever wonder why you have so little off days?"

"Oh," I said. "But I barely work when I'm here, anyways."

"Are you trying to get fired?" JP asked jokingly, chuckling.

"Yeah," I said, just as teasingly. "I hate hanging out with you freaks."

Sanity rolled her eyes, smiling. I leaned back in my chair, and she coughed. "You're date . . ."

"Oh, _fuck,_" I said again, and jumped out of my seat. Sanity snickered. It sounded so familiar . . .

I blew it off, rushed out the door, and hopped on my motorcycle.

Ice Cream Place

Fuck, fuck, fuck . . . I got off the motorcycle, took off my bad ass helmet, and quickly walked into the ice cream place. Sam was waiting there, looking really cute in a pair of jeans and t-shirt.

"Sorry I'm late," I said, and he shrugged. "I kinda forgot."

Sam's face fell. "Oh."

"Not like that," I said, knowing what was he assuming. That I had only said yes to get him off my back. "I just have a lot on my mind."

"Want to talk about it?" he asked, smiling reassuringly.

"Not really," I said, smiling back.

"Good," he said, and I giggled. Oh, God. Please don't let me turn into the kind of girl who giggles at everything. That would really suck.

We sat in a booth, and ordered. I got a banana split (Did that sound dirty to anyone but me?) with four scoops. The waitress looked me up and down, probably wondering how I stayed so skinny and ate more than a man.

_Well, it's all part of the circle of life. When some wacky-job scientist decides t_o _give you wings, they also decide that you should burn calories really fast. Now, stop trying to figure out what makes me tick and go get my ice cream, bitch._

So maybe the last part wasn't necessary, but it's not a legit tell off unless you call 'em a bitch. It's just how the world works.

"So . . ." he said. "What's your favorite color?"

I smiled. This was so freaking cliche. But sometimes, cliche is the best thing out there.

Fang

"Where's Max?" I asked Skid.

She shrugged. "Work, probably."

"She works?" Gazzy asked.

Skid nodded slowly. "Duh. I work too."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

She scoffed and glared at me. "Fang, people may say life is free, but it's not. Get over yourself and fuck off." She shoved Tank's arm off from around her shoulders, got off the couch, and stormed upstairs.

"What's her problem?" Iggy asked.

"I dunno," Tank said. "She's been acting pissed off all week."

"Oh my god," Nudge said, coming into the living room, where we were just . . . chilling. "I can't believe you guys. It's so obvious."

"It is?" I said.

She rolled her eyes. "Duh."

"Then what is it?" Tank asked, obviously the most worried about Skid.

Nudge smirked and said, "She's on her period."

And remember, this room is full of guys who'd rather not hear that.

"Oh, c'mon, Nudge!"

"We don't need to know that!"

"Gross!"

Nudge giggled, and climbed up the stairs to retreat from our words.

"I'm going check on Skid," Tank said.

"Beware," I said, smirking. "Hell have no fury as a woman on her period."

He rolled his eyes and climbed upstairs. We sat in silence for a while, until Gazzy left, saying something along the lines of 'going blow up a frog'. I don't really think I want to know.

That left me and Iggy. And we all know that's not a good thing.

He had that super pervy look on his face. He would make a good pimp if he could do that face all the time. A blind pimp with wings. That's a new one. I've heard of vampire pimp, zombie pimp, crazy pimp, and a bunch of different pimps, but never a blind winged one.

"So. You walked in on Max," he said in his ultra perv voice.

I ignored him. I was hoping he was like a five-year-old: They bother you for a minute, get bored, and leave. But no matter how immature he is outside, he has infinite patience when it comes to his pervy thing.

"C'mon, Fang," Iggy said. "What did you see?"

I scoffed. "Perv."

"Gay-fag."

I raised an eyebrow. "Aren't those two the same thing?"

He shrugged. "Maybe . . . But it's the only explanation for our little problem."

"No," I said. "The only explenation for our little problem was that you're here, asking me to describe what Max looked like _without clothes on._"

He shrugged. "Hey. I'm a guy. I have needs."

"Hey," I said. "This is my fist. It has needs to punch your nose into your skull."

"C'mon, Fang," he said, his voice on the edge of pleading. "I'm blind. The last time I saw a girl, I was around four. And the girl was a White coat. And she had no boobs what-so-ever."

I glared at him, which was wasted on the blind kid. "Is that all you ever think about? Boobs?"

"Basically," he said, grinning that perv grin again. "Sometimes it's-"

"ENOUGH," I said, finally giving in. "I'll describe it to you if you don't say another word about your . . . fantasies."

He smiled. "Good."

Of course, I wasn't going to say a damn thing. I'm not that sexist or disgusting . . . ok, I might just randomly think about it for no reason what-so-ever, but it's permanently imprinted into my brain.

Heh-heh . . .

NO! *swats nose with a rolled up newspaper* Keep the image out of you- dammit.

But, of course, Max had somehow heard the whole thing. At least, the part to me agreeing. So she walked up to me and said, "This is for walking in on me." She slapped me. Really hard. Then turned to Iggy. "This is for being a perv." She slapped him. Really hard. The she turned to me again. "And this is for going along with his purvy-ness." She slapped me again, this time harder. "And if it happens again, you will no longer be classified as a man. Get it, got it, good." Max walked up stairs, and it was obvious she wasn't just mad. She was FURIOUS.

"I take my statement back," I said, wincing slightly as I moved my jaw. "Hell have no fury like Max on her period."

**Like it? Review! Think it sucks and I can do better? Review!**

**Max: I liked the last line . . . **

**Me: Me too. Hee-hee.**

**Skid: I think this chapter was cute . . . But where's the guys?**

**Max: Oh, they kind of ran away when it said 'underwear' kinda sad, ain't it?**

**Me: *sigh* so much work to be done with those . . .**

**RnR? **

**- Sanity (And those wondering why I sign off 'Sanity', the reason is I just really like it. So sue me.)**


	13. That Feeling

**I noticed Lissa hasn't had many talking lines lately . . . that needs to change. I like this Lissa, who is usually stereotyped as a slut, even by **_**moi. **_**But in this one, Lissa is flirtatious, pretty, not slutty, easy to hang around with, and sometimes, well, a bitch.**

**JP: Is she a lesbobitch?**

**Me: Do you even know what that means?**

**JP: No, but I'm pretty sure you don't either.**

**Me: . . . Touche.**

**JP: Do you even know what that means?**

**Me: Yeah. I looked it up on Wikipedia!**

**JP: Wiki lies . . .**

**Me: I know, but I want to believe it, so . . .**

**Disclaimer musical!: Oooh, baby, I don't ooooowwwwwn yooooooouuuuuuu! *jazz hands* YEAH! Jazz hands make everything better, even disclaimers.**

Fang - Monday morning - before school

I've come up with a plan to make Max . . . less mad at me. Not exactly jumping with joy that I had explained it this way, but not in the mood to make me less classified as a man - or the living.

I knocked on the door to her bedroom. I know, I know. Knock on a door? Who does that anymore? Oh, wait! Me! When I walked in on Max! And she had no clothes on!

Max opened the door, and she raised an eyebrow. "Wanting another peek? No thanks," she said, and tried to close the door. Key word: Tried. I jammed my foot between the door and its frame before she could shut it all the way.

"Max," I said. "Just listen to me."

She hesitated for a second, before opening the door for me. She was wearing green cargo pants and a black t-shirt that said, 'The only thing we have to fear is fear its self . . . and spiders.'

"Thanks," I said.

"You've got five minutes," she said and went back into the room. I followed.

"What do you think of Michael Jackson?" I asked. I must sound like a gay-fag, like Iggy had called me.

Max looked at me. "Did I have something when I asked you if you were gay?"

I glared at her. She didn't even blink. "No. Just answer the question, will you?"

"The dude creeped me out," she said. She pulled some combat boots from her duffel bag. I need combat boots. "But, like many believe, he as a very talented musician."

I nodded. "What about the whole 'child molester' thing?"

"Made him creep me out even more," she said. "And you're asking me this . . . why?"

"Because that's me," I said.

Her eyes widened and she said sarcastically, "YOU'RE MICHAEL JACKSON? NO FREAKING WAY! HE'S ALIIIIIIIIVEEEEE!" She pretended to do the whole Frankenstein/mad scientist thing.

I rolled my eyes. "No, that's not it. You think I'm a creeper."

"Because you are," she said and shoved her feet into her the combat boots. "Three minutes."

"No, I'm not," I said, ignoring the last comment. I swallowed, not believing I was going to say this. "I guess I'm kind of like Michael Jackson. I'm a good guy, but you're totally creeped out now."

"Rightfully," she muttered.

"Yeah, rightfully," I added. "But I swear on my family's lives, I did _not _walk in on you on purpose, and I was _not _going to tell Iggy one little thing of what I . . . saw. . . . We cool?"

She thought it over for a second."One, never swear on any ones life but your own." Max held up a fist. "And, yeah, we cool."

We fist bumped, and I said, "Oh, and you gave me six minutes instead of five. Just sayin'."

She groaned, grabbed her bag, and said, "Shut up, before I kill you."

"Ooh," I said, waving my hands. "I am _so _scared."

"You better be," she said, and pushed my shoulder. "I once took down five men . . . at the same time."

"Why must you brag?" I asked.

Max shrugged, smiling. "It's my thing."

Max

When I walked into school, I was ambushed by red . . . hair. What? Did you think I got ambushed by the color red? Now, that's a little weird, even for my life. I don't think the Institute would decide to animate the color red to attack me. How would it kill me? Red overload? Death by color-smother? Psh. Yeah, right.

"Hi, Max," Lissa said brightly. "How's it hanging?"

"Upside down and sideways," I answered. "At the same time. How 'bout with you?"

She shrugged. "Nothing much. Got a manicure last weekend," she extended her hand for me to see. It was French tips, perfectly placed, "stayed up until three a.m, and noticed The Look between you and Nick."

I raised an eyebrow. "The Look? The shut-up-or-die The Look?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, stupid," she said. "The I-wuv-you-so-much look."

I blushed scarlet. "What are you _talking _about, Lissa?"

She furrowed her brow. "You mean . . . you don't know?"

"Don't know _what?"_ I said.

"About The Looks," she said and blinked. "Every girl knows about the looks. It's, like, in a girl rule book."

"Well," I said. "I've grown up breaking rules, so these mean nothing to me."

Lissa narrowed her eyes at me. "You're coming to my house Friday, Saturday, and Sunday."

"But I have to wo-" I started, but she cut me off.

"_After _you're done with work," she said.

"Ugh. Fine, I guess."

Lissa squealed. "This is going to be so much fun! Skid can come, too."

"I figured," I said.

"And speaking of Skid . . . where is she?"

I shrugged, and pushed pass some random guy who was talking to his friend, right in the middle of the hallway. "Probably making out with Tyler somewhere."

"Ah," she said, and we rounded a corner, and saw Skid's locker. And, sure enough, she was kissing Tank's face off.

As we passed them, I said, "Ugh. Get a room."

Corner Cafe

Sanity and I were doing our thing - which was basically nothing. She was reading and I was people watching. And there were some major weirdos here, but I guess I don't have room to talk. But I'll tell them to you anyways!

One guy had about three lips rings, and one of those huge circle earrings. Another girl had around sixteen ear piercings, and they had those stick things through them. And another, oh, boy! He was a real freakazoid. he had black hair and black eyes, only wearing black clothes. He had just used Michael Jackson in a metaphor, and he kinda gave me the creeps. Oh, and he had wings! Yeah, didn't tell you that, now did I?

"'Sup, F-nick?" I asked the bird kid who was in front of the counter.

Sanity looked at me, and raised and eyebrow. "Fnick?" I pointed at Fang, and her head swiveled to look at him. "Damn," she breathed.

He smirked, and rolled his eyes. "I'm Nick, not Fnick."

Sanity seemed to be sucked out of whatever she was doing inside her head, and I'm pretty sure I don't want to know what it was. "Sanity. Need somethin'?"

"A job," he said, surprising me.

Sanity

"A job," Fang said. And, yes, I know what I had just called him.

"Can you cook?" I asked, to stall him while I looked into his head, like I had max when I first met her and gave her the job. He had wings, no intention in hurting Max or Skid, and just wanted to get . . . closer to Max? Interesting . . . And he was hot, so yeah. He was cool.

"Congratulations!" I said. "You've got the job!"

"Cool," Fang said, and then asked, "What exactly am I doing?"

I shrugged. "Waiting tables with Max, basically. You pick up a tray of food, and go to whatever table I tell you to. For now, you can, I dunno, sit behind the counter with us. Pull up a chair, Fnick."

He did. Next to Max. I'm Sanity, the fortune teller, and I sense a relationship in their future . . .

But it all went downhill from there.

Fang

The door to the Corner Cafe opened again, but this time it wasn't a future writer or other cheese like that. Cheese . . . I want some cheese.

But I can't eat cheese right now, 'cause some really good looking guys in suits just walked into the cafe. Most of the time, when a good looking guy walks into a cafe, it means he wants to buy it and make it a chain cafe. But is that what happened? Nope. They gave us wolf-like grins, showing off sharp incisors.

Oh, and Sanity just pulled up the hem of her skirt and produced two bad ass guns from two thigh holsters. And this wasn't the thigh holster right above the knee. It was one of those super sexy thigh holders, all the way up her thigh. But of course, a fourteen-year-old girl can't be sexy. But I would probably die of sexy overload if Max had one on. UGH. I did _not just think that._ I'm a total perv, we get it.

But: Sanity just pulled out two freaking _guns._ And she was pointing them at the _Erasers. _

"Hello, boys," she purred. "Miss me?"

"Sanity," one growled. "You weren't supposed to be here."

"Well, I am," she said. "Now answer my question: Miss me?" Then she pulled the trigger. It hit one of the wolf men, right in the middle of his forehead.

"Holy shit," Max said. "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?"

Sanity replied, "Surviving, Max."

Max hissed at me, "What are you waiting for? Take 'em down!"

Then she launched into action. It was like bang bang pow, several Erasers were down on the ground, family jewels smashed. But not before Sanity's glasses were knocked off her face by an Eraser going for her. They landed somewhere, and she cried out in pain. I noticed how her eyes weren't blue with iris' and pupils, but just _black _with shards of ice blue, like ice.

But she managed to make a clicking sound with her tongue, and said quietly, "Get down." She pulled the trigger on one of her guns, and it shot passed me, and at Max. Max leaned back, in a movement that would probably break my back if I tried to do it.

It was like everything was in slow motion. The bullet coming from Sanity's gun, shooting past me, and at Max. Max leaning back, and the bullet about a centimeter away from her nose. But . . . the bullet did hit an Eraser in the groin.

"Ooh," I said, wincing. "That's gotta hurt."

Sanity fell to the ground, the guns dropping beside her. Guess we have to handle the rest of the Erasers on our own.

_*line break*_

We had taken down the Erasers without too much a hassle, but Sanity was still a crumpled heap on the ground, her hands clutching her head like she was trying to peel it open.

A middle aged man with barely any hair kneeled beside her, trying to get her to roll over. "Where's the glasses?" he asked Max.

"I-I do-"

"Find the damned glasses!" he yelled and looked back at Sanity.

"You heard him," Max said to me. "Find the glasses." We looked all over the place for them, but didn't see anything. Then Max produced them from under a table, and handed them to the middle aged man. He rolled Sanity over with some difficulty, and put the glasses over her eyes. She moaned and groaned (That did sound wrong to everyone else, right?) but opened her eyes, which were blue again.

"Call . . . Angel," she said. "Tell 'er . . . time to . . . go."

Angel? How did she know Angel?

Angel

Nudge, Gazzy, Iggy, and me were re-watching Avatar: The Last Airbender again. The anime manga cartoon one. The movie was crap, just a waste of money.

Then the phone I wasn't supposed to have rang. The one Sanity had given me and said, "If I call this, get your gear together and your asses of town."

I pulled it out of my pocket and flipped it open. "Hello?"

"Hey, Angel," JP said. "You've got to get out of town. NOW."

"Ok," I said and flipped the phone close. "ALRIGHT!" I yelled. "ANYONE WITH WINGS, PACK UP ENOUGH CLOTHES FOR A WEEK OR SO, AND GET SOME FOOD. WE'RE LEAVING THIS PLACE."

And no one dared question me. It was a good feeling, being empowered like that. I liked that feeling.

**Move Along will be updated, so don't lose faith.**

**Review?**

**- Sanity (I sign off Sanity 'cause I feel like it.)**


	14. It's Raining Electrics!

**Hmm . . . what to do with this chapter . . . Meh. I'll just wing it.**

**JP: Nothing out of the usual.**

**Me: Whatever.**

**Skid: So, basically, you're just winging my life around with a flimsy plot?**

**Me: Yeah.**

**SKid: I'm down with it.**

**Tank: Oh, God, please never say that again. . . .**

**Skid: Why? **

**Me: *snickers***

**Tank: Brings back bad memories . . .**

**Me: Ooooof-**

**Disclaimers!: I don't own Maximum Ride, Paramore, James Patterson, or a person named Kennedy Ride . . . wait. I do own her.**

Max

Know what really _sucks_? Almost getting hit by a bullet. When your friend is the one shooting the gun. And then, said friend drops to the ground in pain, partially recovers when her glasses are put on her face, and she tells us to call another of the winged-child. Run-on sentences suck, too. So right now, my life is pretty suckish.

"What the Hell is going on here?" Fang asked.

"No idea," I replied. I repeated his question.

JP sighed, and helped Sanity sit against the the counter, Sanity flinching the whole way up. "We're not exactly . . . who we say we are."

I raised an eyebrow. "And you would really be . . . who?"

"Well," Sanity said, rubbing her temples. "I'm not completely human."

Fang and I shared a glance, and those two seconds it was like we shared a conversation. The conversation: She sprouts claws, I'm leaving you behind.

"How human are you?" I asked.

"Ninety-two percent," she said.

"The other eight?" Fang asked her.

"Tell ya later, Fang," she said, and registered our shocked faces. "Oh, and I can read minds."

"Crazy girl say _wha_?" Yeah, I totally just pulled a Hannah Banana . . . Montana . . . whateverana.

"Sanity!" someone who sounded a lot like Angel yelled from the door. All the customers had fleed to somewhere, and several wounded or dead Erasers were on the floor.

"Angel?" Fang said, but it came out as more of a question.

"Fang?" she said, sounding surprised.

"Iggy!" Iggy - duh - yelled.

"I'm confused," Fang said.

"OMG, the egotistical Fang is confused!" I exclaimed. "I thought the day would never come!"

"Shut up," he said, and turned his attention back on Sanity. "Care to explain?"

She continued to rub her temples. "Yes and no."

"What can you explain?" I asked, and I admit I was pretty pissed at her. Could she not have told me this, oh, I don't know, before the whole Eraser attack?

"Max," she said, "I'm in your head. I know what you're thinking."

"So you're like Angel," Nudge said, blinking rapidly. "You can read minds? Can you control them, too? Like, Angel does this really creepy thing, and her eyes get all glazed over, and she can make people do some really creepy stuff. She made an Eraser kill himself once by just saying 'drop dead'! Isn't that really creepy? Like-"

"Nudge!" I said. "Please." I turned back to Sanity and glared at her. She held my gaze. "Explain, now, before I decide to take your glasses off again."

JP glared at me. "You wouldn't dare."

I glared back. "Try me."

"Ok, can someone please give me some answers?" Iggy said.

Sanity sighed, and stood up shakily, leaning against the counter. "Let's start with how I know Angel."

Fang

"Holy . . ." I said, trailing off.

"Shit . . ." Max completed.

"Taki mushrooms," Iggy said.

We all looked at him. "What?" Max asked.

"Shitaki mushrooms," Iggy said.

Max rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Iggy." She turned to Sanity, her obvious anger dying down. "So, basically, you're saying you're part bat, can't see worth a shit, can read minds, and a bunch of other stuff that can possibly make me go insane?"

Sanity grinned and looked at me. "And you wondered why my name was Sanity."

In other words, she was like Angel but much, much more powerful. With the Internet connected to her brain. No biggy . . . Alright, I lied. Yes biggy.

A bunch of wack job scientist got together and decided to make a real life bat girl, then decided to give her mind reading powers. But they didn't stop there. They hooked up wires upon wires _inside her brain, _which made her be connected to mechanics. The whole glasses thing was for a few reasons. One) so she could actually see things instead of being completely blind, two) to keep people from seeing her bat/human eyes, with no iris' or pupil (Iggy had suggested he try them on, which leads me to my next point and three) since she could read the minds of many, many people at once, it . . . slowed the traffic down, I guess you could say. She turned Iggy down my slapping the back of his head.

"How do I know you're not working for the School?" I asked, eyes narrowed at her.

She chuckled. "If I worked for the School, why would I kill my own men?"

Max backed me up, saying, "Those guys are pretty sick. Don't know what they would do. For all we know, you could be working for them, just to spy on us."

Sanity sighed and rubbed her temples, which she seemed to be doing a lot since her glasses cracked. "If I was a spy, I wouldn't be telling you to get out of here. Now."

She pushed Max forward, and I wanted to slap her for some strange reason for even _touching _Max. Weird . . .

"Skid," Max said. "Bag."

Skid threw Max a book sack, and Iggy threw me mine.

"I'll contact you," Sanity said.

"How?" Max asked.

Sanity smirked. "I have my ways. Now, go upstairs, to my room. Over my bed, there's a trap door. Open it, and it'll lead to the roof. I'm pretty sure you can figure out the rest."

Max nodded and said, "Let's move." She walked over to the spiral staircase and climbed, Skid following. "You guys coming?"

I eyed Sanity wearily, but followed Max, and heard Gazzy say, "Guess this is like follow the leader."

We all followed Max upstairs, and up another, until we were at Sanity's bedroom. _Gazzy's _room was cleaner than this. And at least his looked more like a tornado had gone through it, not a bomb. Max climbed onto the bed and-

Oh, please, try to get that dirt image out of your head. But, yes, I did have that same exact picture in my head, so I won't be giving you too much trouble.

Back to reality. True to her word, Max pulled a hook, and a trap door fell down, almost hitting Max in the head. I had that strange feeling that I wanted to hit Sanity for causing Max harm - or, at least, indirectly.

Weird . . .

Sanity

Once Max and the others were safely upstairs, I said, "The cops are here; I'll handle them." I pulled my guns off the ground and put them back in the thigh holsters. I've worn these things since I was about ten, and they're strangely comfortable once you're used to them. I had given my guns names - Kyla and Cassie.

JP bit his lip, and even though I wasn't trying, some of his thoughts leaked into mine. I rubbed my temples, and small headache starting right above my eyes, where all the thoughts and emotions and memories filtered in. The wires were all throughout my brain, and connected with my eyes. It would truly suck if I had to get an eye transplant of some kind. Those doctors sure would be shocked to see electronic wires connected to my eyes and brain. But that's what I have JP for. And, well, he's good company. But just don't tell him I said that; he'll never let me live it down.

"Don't wory, Jamey," I said. "I can handle myself."

He sighed, and said, "I'll get to work with the Erasers. Can't have them lying around to rot, now can I?"

I smirked and not-so-gracefully walked around the dead or partially dead Erasers. I slipped through the door of the Corner Cafe, and was first hit by the thoughts, which caused the headaches. Maybe the Whitecoats did their job a little too well . . .

_What is a- No way she could- where's the man?- How come-_

I rubbed my temples. That crack just had to appear in my glasses.

"Freeze!" one of the cops yelled, and pointed a gun at me. I smirked at it. Such a wimpy gun . . . I totally just laughed at that.

But of course I didn't. I concentrated on their minds, and ignored that headache pinching in the front and back of my head. I'd have to get JP to fix these things . . .

I didn't have to say it, but I wanted to. "Put your guns down. Get back in your car. Drive away. There was no problem you could find. You came here, checked the place out, and only saw a peaceful scene of a quiet cafe with no customers. You can go now."

Their pupils dilated, they got back into the cop cars, and drove away. I rubbed my head and turned back around, walked into the cafe to find the Erasers swept away somewhere. JP was tinkering with a lap top.

"First things first, we get these things fixed."

Max

As we flew off, I could see Sanity walk out of the cafe and talk to the cops. They drove away after a minute. A shiver went down my spine. It was creepy.

"You guys have cell phones, right?" I asked, taking mine out of my pocket.

"Yeah," everyone chorused, besides Skid.

"Throw them," I said, and let mine drop.

"What?" Nudge asked. "How are we supposed to call our friends? Jeb? An-"

"You won't," Skid said, letting hers fall to the ground. "Anyone is a possible threat."

"Even Sanity," I said, and narrowed my eyes at the ground, which was more like a miniature town than a real one. If you could see a car, it looked like an ant.

"Bu-" Gazzy started to protest, but Fang cut him off.

"She's right, Gaz," Fang said. "We can't trust anyone. Not even Anne."

"Not even Anne?" Nudge asked quietly.

"Especially not Anne," I said. "Bow drop the cell phones, or any electronic advice you _didn't _steal."

You should have seen what fell out of the sky. Ipods, phones, even a lap top.

"It's raining electrics!" Skid sang. "Hallelujah, it's raining electrics! Ame-an!"

I rolled my eyes, smiling.

Tank asked, "Where do we go now? Ya know, since we're runaways . . . sort of."

Skid and I shared a glance. It was all we needed to decided. Just a single glance.

"We're going to the Institute."

**Short? Yes. Not my best work? Yes. An update? Yes.**

**Skid: Review?**

**JP: Yes.**

**- Sanity? Yes.**


	15. Like Crystal

**Honestly, I had a tiny-ish plot planned out. It was about the size of a cell, but it was one. And now? It's about the size of half a cell.**

**JP: Hey, a plot's a plot. The Final Warning was made out of a fraction of a plot.**

**Tank: And look where that lead us . . .**

**Skid: *jazz hands* To a . . .**

**Disclaimer: Please, please don't sue me. Why? Because you won't get anything out of it, trust me. And my mother would kill me. Will you not sue me if I say I don't own Maximum Ride? Good.**

Max

Flying is probably the funnest thing in the world. Sweeping, swooping, soaring - the three s's! Oh, but there is so much more to it. You don't really have to concentrate to do it, just . . . flap. You're instincts just kick in, and you know what to do. But it's more like walking than a squirrel knowing to hibernate. You have to know how to do it, but you also have to _learn _how.

"Hey, Max?" Nudge said, pulling me out of my own little world. "Where are we supposed to sleep?"

I bit my lip, and looked down at the ground - well, trees. There wasn't much ground _too _look at, since we were flying over a forest. I spotted a place where there were trees, but not too many where we couldn't land. I pointed. "Right there."

Nudge raised an eyebrow. "On the ground?"

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. "You mean you never slept on the cold, hard ground, with no beds or blankets, and no protection if it rains?" I scoffed. "Wimps."

"Did you just call me a wimp?" Iggy asked.

"I think she did," Skid said, smiling.

"I don't like being called a wimp," Iggy replied, glaring at me. Well, my left ear.

"Well, that's your title until you spend _at least _a month and a half on the run. Then, maybe, we'll upgrade you to rookie. Maybe."

Everyone snickered. Well, Fang smiled (Teeth and all. I know, right?) and Iggy scoffed and asked, "What, are there some type of officials?"

"Yep," Skid said. "Me and Max."

"Of _course_ you two are the officials. Of course."

I smiled, and said, "Let's get down there before we pass it up." Then I angled myself downward, the wind catching my wings. It hurt a little bit, but not that much. They followed.

About ten minutes later, we were all sitting around a small fire we had started, the moon giving us other light than the soft glow of the fire. Wow. I never knew I could be so poetic.

Angel giggled, and I rolled my eyes. I don't think I'd ever get used to that. Having someone inside your head. . . . it sends chills down your spine, and really creeps you out.

Speaking of somebody in my head: What the fuck had Sanity meant when she said 'I have my ways'? I only partially grasped her explanation of mind reading, and that part was slowly fading as I thought about it more. UGH. I have come to the conclusion that the more you think about things, the worse it gets. Why don't we just live off of last minute decisions? It would make life easier. Snap decisions don't give people time to argue with you, or time to say, 'That's stupid, I have a better idea.' so no one would second guess you. See my logic?

. . .

. . .

. . .

No, I didn't think you would. But at least you listened. After a moment of thinking things again (I've now sworn it off. It's annoying.), I noticed everyone else had gone to sleep while I was in my own head. Tank has his arms wrapped around Skid's waist by the edge of the clearing. It was so sweet it made me want to puke. Iggy was sprawled out on the grass, Gazzy curled into a ball next to him. Angel and Nudge were right next to each other, both curled into balls. Please. If you have any mercy, don't go there. And Fang . . . he was leaning against a tree, almost completely faded into the shadows. And I'll give him credit for it: It was pretty cool.

I sighed and layed on my back, looking at all the tiny stars in the sky, wishing I was up there with them. Hmm . . . not a bad idea, Max. Not bad at all.

*Line break*

When my feet touched ground again, I looked at my watch and whistled. I had been flying for two hours, and the only difference in everyone's positions was that Gazzy was sprawled out now. I walked over to Fang, and kicked him in the gut. What? I never said I was a gentle person.

His breath left him in an _oof _and I said, "You're watch. Wake Skid up in two hours."

Fang rubbed his stomach and asked, "Did you really have to kick me with the combat boots on?"

I looked down at my feet. "Huh. Forgotten I had those on. Well, g'night."

"Night," he replied. I walked over to a random tree, leaned against it, and closed my eyes.

Fang

I was enjoying a very R rated dream, when Max kicked me in the stomach. Not in the dream, dumb asses, but in real life. Maybe she could sense what was going on in my head . . . God, I hope not. If she could, I'd be deader than dead. I'd be chopped up, sterilized, and sent to the store so an Eraser could make an appetizing bird kid steak.

Don't believe me? Well, the little kid looks under his bed for a monster; the monster looks under his bed for the Rock; the Rock looks under his bed for Chuck Norris; Chuck Norris looks under his bed for _Max_.

For the little time I've known her, I know she's one of those people that doesn't take no for an answer. And I've seen her beat the crap out of several Erasers and a punching dummy, so I don't question her. Would you?

But _damn _that kick hurt like hell gone holy, and back to damned. I seriously couldn't breath for a minute or two. And that's not good.

"You're watch. Wake Skid up in two hours."

I rubbed my stomach. "Did you have to kick me with the combat boots on?"

She looked at her feet, like she had forgotten she was wearing them. "Huh. Forgotten I had those on. Well, g'night."

"Night," I said, and she walked over to a tree and leaned against it. She closed her eyes, but it was obvious she wasn't asleep. Her muscles were tight, and she seemed so tense it looked like with the snap of a twig she would shoot up and strangle someone. But eventually her muscles relaxed a bit, and her breathing calmed. Just a tiny bit. I guess it was the closest thing she got to relaxed.

And then what did I do? I just stared at her. Yep. I stared at the girl who could probably find out two-hundred-and-seventy-five ways to kill me with her middle finger, all the while flipping me off. I am officially creepier than Edward. (Nudge and Angel made me watch that movie. Honestly? It sucked. Roberta and Kristine or whatever have the acting skills of untalented logs, and neither of them are all that attractive. And the director should be banned from making movies. especially action-packed ones. My opinion.)

I am a creeper. I admit it. The first step of solving the problem is admitting you have one. Alright, so I've admitted it. I tried to tear my eyes away from Max's peaceful face, but I just couldn't do was really, really pretty. Yeah, that's something an eight year old would say, not a sixteen-year-old boy who's hormones take control of his body every once in a while. But it was the truth.

I looked down at my watch. Woah . . . I had spent three hours looking at Max's face and not something else? I'm proud of myself. Not proud of myself for staring at Max, though . . . I'm so sad.

I stood up and stretched, my back cracking several times. I walked over to Skid, who was snoring just as loudly as her boyfriend, and shook her shoulder. She bolted up, her bright blue eyes wide. Tank grunted in his sleep, but didn't wake up.

She clenched her hands into fists, and was about to pound my face in when I said, taking a step back, "Easy there, Skid. Your watch."

Her eyes fell back to their normal size, and she said, "Oh. Sorry about almost attacking you."

I shrugged. "No problem." I walked over to my tree and leaned against it, closing my eyes.

Max

I was perched on the edge of a building, and the sun was setting. I hate to become a big glob of mushiness and guck and romance, but it was really pretty. Maybe it was because I was on the top of a sky scraper and i could see all of New York below me? Maybe.

Fang was perched next to me, looking at the orange sun fall down the sky. I would say this was romantic (Which I don't want it to be.), but the other bird children were on the roof behind us. And I had a _killer _headache.

I hissed out my breath through my teeth and rubbed my temples. I had already taken about five Advils - in about an hour - and I wasn't supposed to do that since I was only around ninety-nine pounds.

"You alright?" Fang asked, actually sounding worried.

"Huh? Oh - yeah, I'm fine. . . . So how are you liking New York?"

He flashed a half grin, and it stuck partially to his face. He was cute when he did that . . . NO! Bad Max! You're not allowed to like anyone! Liking somebody just lead to a whole lot of trouble.

"Greasy food, cramped streets, nice sunsets, beautiful girls (I swear, when he said that, his eyes flickered to my face. Weird . . .). What's not to love?"

I smiled. "It is a great city."

"City that never sleeps."

"I thought that was Vegas," I said, frowning. My headache was still there.

He shrugged. "Both? Can we agree on that?"

I smiled, and my headache worsened. "Yeah, we ca-"

I didn't finish, because my brain seemed to explode. My brain was a fragile crystal vase, and someone just swung a hammer at it, sending it crashing it to the ground, breaking it into a million pieces. Now, picture this all in slow motion. (Now that I think about it, that would make an awesome part in a rock music video. Why didn't I think about it then? Oh, yeah, my _brain was exploding._)

So, instead of falling backwards which I was supposed to do, I had been on the balls of my feet, making me fall forwards, plummeting to the ground at God-never-knows how fast. At sunset.

How romantic.

**Sorry it took me so long to update. I've been busy. Getting my first phone, _ever._ It's awesome. It's a dark, silvery-gray color, thin, and rounded a little at the edges. With a keyboard. Awesome, I know. **

**Oh, God, I did not just describe my phone to total strangers . . . sorry . . . I can't believe I described my phone _at all_. Now, that's just sa.**

**Music I listened to while writing part of this chapter (I just felt like doing this, ok?): 3 doors down, When I'm gone; Daughtry, It's Not Over; Somebody, Let it Rock; Linkin Park, One Step closer; Linkin Park, Numb; All Time Low, Umbrella by Whatsherface; Panic! At the disco, I Write Sins Not Tragedies.**

**Um . . . yeah, that's it. Review, please.**

**- Sanity! At the Disco**


	16. Always    Wait, Never?

**Hmm . . . someone asked - skipperdoodle, I believe - for more Fang POV. The beginning of this chapter offers it!**

**Skid: Where am I in all this?**

**Me: *grin* Making smoochy faces with your boyfriend.**

**Tank: *blushes* Yeah . . . whatever . . .**

**JP: Is it time for a disclaimer yet? That's always my favorite part of your stories . . .**

**Me: And always my least favorite.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride, James Patterson, that random sky-scraper in New York, or the color fluggernazagel. **

**Claimer: But I do own a lap top, a brand new phone (Jazz fingers!), and the color hugglefluppergazen. It's awesome. Be jealous.**

Fang

_Max. _

That was all that was running through my head when Max's face contorted with pain, and fell of the edge of the roof. When someone falls off a roof of a sky-scraper, they usually die. But when a bird kid falls off a roof, the whip out their wings and fly back up.

But this time, Max didn't pull out her magnificent wings to catch her fall. No, her brain didn't seem to work at the moment. Maybe you could call it back later. Instead, she plummeted towards the ground like a rock. And let me tell you, rocks fall fast.

"MAX!" I yelled for no apparent reason, and jumped off the roof, not pulling my wings out. There might be people down there for all I knew, but I didn't care.

Before I knew it, I was plummeting towards the ground at I-have-no-idea-how-fast-but-pretty-damn-fast. But Max had gotten a head start on me, so I still had a long way to go if I was supposed to keep her from being a spot on the side walk.

I have no idea if this plays a part in anything, but I' heavier than Max. I know a girls weight is a sensitive subject, as learned by Nudge and Anne and Alex (When she was with us. Damn, she was a bitch.), and that saying anything close to 'Do those jeans still fit? They look kind of small.' to 'You weigh a lot.' will make them go bananas on you. B-A-N-A-N-A-S. Now I feel like Gwen Steffani. And since I'm a guy, It's not a lovely feeling.

Back to the present. Max,plummeting to her death. Me, falling after her. And I dropped faster than her. In some way, I made that sound dirty. Now that's just sad.

Anywho, I was falling like Superman towards Max, who was dropping far too fast for my comfort. But so was I. The "wind" rushing in my face, blowing my hair away from it, making my eyes tear up. It was awesome.

No, I'm not about to tell you that just as she was about to hit the cement, I swept her into my arms and flew back up the sky-scraper, where I then kissed her passionately. However much I would like to kiss her, that is way too cheesy and cliche and junk for my tastes. I mean, seriously? Sweep her away and kiss her passionately? Can it get any worse than that? No, I didn't think so.

But what did happen was right when she was at the middle of the sky-scraper (These things are freaking _huge_.), I was even with her. I got a little below her and she fell into my arms, and my body didn't like the extra weight. And neither did my wings when I pulled them out. Yeah, I have an eighteen-foot wing span, but they were built for me, and for me only. Not an extra hundred pounds of dead weight. Of course, Max wasn't dead, but since the only movement she made was curling into a ball, she might as well have been.

But I am a man, and I do not admit defeit. It's just not my thing. So, I flapped my powerful wings up and down and managed to get us back up to the top of the sky-scraper with a little difficulty.

But Max still looked like a guy who had just gotten kicked in the nads by a soccer player who was wearing cleats that had a really, really hard kick.

I laid her down on the roof, and Skidwas at her side, blue eyes filled with worry. I was shocked she hadn't jumped off the roof after me.

"Max? Are you alright?" she asked.

Everyone else had gathered around Max, who looked like she wanted to die. If she did, which I wasn't planning on letting her, she would have died without ever fulfilling her dream of killing Justin Bieber with a marsh mellow gun and a bundled up Twilight poster. I would have loved to have seen it done.

"Fuck no," Max growled, and her eyes seemed to tighten, even though they were already closed.

"Language," Iggy chided, wagging a finger. Remember, this dude is blind. He has no idea how much pain she seems to be in.

"Fuck you, you mother fucker," she replied.

"Well," he said. "Fine then."

Then Max went through her whole list of curses, from English to French to - wait, is that German? It always manages to sound more like a curse word in German. I think it was German. Yeah, it was German.

"What's wrong with her?" Angel asked me.

"I think she has one really, really bad headache, Ange," I said, and put a hand on her shoulder.

The Nudge Channel decided to tune in. Great. "OMG, is she gonna be ok? I heard about these, like, really bad headaches some people have, and a lot of them _died. _Is Max gonna die? God, I hope Max doesn't die. What do you thinks wrong? I hope it's not, like, a brain tumbler or some-"

"That's brain _tumor_, retard," Gazzy said. "And of course Max doesn't have one! She's too tough."

"I doesn't matter how tough you are, stupid," she retorted. "Anyone can get a brain tumor-"

"Ha!" Gazzy explained. "So you admit it's a brain tumor, not tumbler! I WIN!"

"Yeah, yeah," Max said, having seemed to recover from that major-ass headache of hers. "Gazzy, you win with the tumor tumbler. Nudge, you win tough or not thingymajig. Got it?"

They nodded. it was amazing at how when she wasin pain, she managed to shut them up before I can even get a word in. And slightly annoying, too.

"So what happened?" Tank asked, brown eyes more curious than when Iggy managed to make a bomb with a tube sock and a few wires. I know, right? I didn't understand how either.

"Massive fucking crapping shitting damning (insert word that I'd rather not put on paper) fucking headache, that's what," Max replied.

"Can you at least try to not curse around the eight-year-old?" Iggy asked.

Max smirked, and replied, "I've seen that said eight-year-old curse like a sailor when she stubbed her toe. You've got nothing to worry about."

"Alrighty then," he said.

"What did it feel like?" Skid asked.

"Like someone rammed into my head with a eighteen-wheeler, pounded it with a hammer, then dumped a ton of bricks onto it," Max replied.

"Ow," Gazzy said.

"Ow is right, my friend. Ow is right."

We sat in silence for a while, until I cleared my throat. Max scowled at the roof and mumbled something I couldn't hear.

"What? What was that?" I asked, smirking.

"I sad thank you," she mumbled a little bit louder.

"What was that? I still can't hear you," I replied, and she glared at me. I held her gaze. We glared at each other for a while.

"Will you two stop flirting with your eyes?" Iggy asked. The consequence was Max kicking him in the shin.

"I'll take first watch," Skid offered, and sat down.

"Night, guys," Angel said, and laid herself down on the roof. I did the same, and it was surprisingly comfortable.

Max

The guys and girls and I were somewhere in New York, in Central Park, in a deserted part of it. I know, right? Some place deserted in New York? I was as shocked as you are.

When we had gotten up this morning, we went into the sewers (I admit I almost barfed.), and me and Skid followed the others to where they first entered the Institute. When we were escaping, we weren't really paying attention to where we were going, just out. But when we got to where the door thing was, there was nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zero. A bare-ass cement wall. Again, as shocked as you are.

We probably searched for another door for _hours._ What did we find? Proof that there are some big-ass rats in New York's sewers. Oh, a few hobos, and one tried to feel me up. Yeah, seriously. I might have kinda broken his arm. Alright, I did.

I asked Nudge, "Do you know how to fight?"

"Sort of," she replied. "Anne had shown me a few self defense moves, but that's about it."

"Well," I said. "You should definitely learn. Get up, and I'll teach you a few."

"Alright," she said, and stood up from the ground.

"I wanna learn, too," Angel said.

I nodded, and asked Gazzy, "You know how to fight?"

He shrugged, and I rolled my eyes. "Do you people know anything?"

"I know that if Gazzy farts, I'll gag," Iggy replied. "And how to fight."

"Good," I said. "Then you can teach Gazzy how to fight."

"Why me?" he asked.

"Because I'm gonna teach the girls, and you teach the Gasman." I turned to Nudge.

"Now, first thing first."

Fang

"First of all," I said to Gazzy. "Always."

Max

"Never."

Max and Fang

"Be afraid."

Max

"To use."

Fang

"The crotch blow."

**I'm sorry it took me a while to update. I have slight writer's constipation, but I'm sure it will pass.**

**In other news: If this story gets five more reviews, we reach ninety! Ten more, and we get ninety-five! Fifteen more, we get a one-hundred! **

**Let's aim for the hundred. **

**- Sanity**


	17. I Think Scooby Doo Copyrighted That

**I miss my friends.**

**JP: We know.**

**Me: Even my annoying one! And I don't like her that much!**

**Skid: We know.**

**Me: I even miss-**

**Tank: We know!**

**Me: Geez, don't have a cow.**

**I don't miss the disclaimer: Oh, disclaimer, how I hate you so. WHY DON'T YOU JUST GO IN A HOLE AND DIE, AND NEVER BOTHER ANYONE ELSE AGAIN? **

When most people wake up in the grass, they think, "Where the hell is my bed?" But when I wake up in the grass, I think, "Ah. One the run again."

_Not _why is Nudge saying, "I feel disgusting."

I sat up, and asked, "What?"

"I've got a layer of dirt covering my skin and clothes. It feels gross," she said.

"Well, that's part of being on the run," Skid said. "You don't get to take many baths."

I stood up and brushed myself off, making dirt come off my clothes. "Right. Now, everybody up before I kick you in the gut." They were up quite quickly. "Get your gear together and we'll go find some hot dogs or something."

It took everyone about three minutes to get their stuff, and start walking away from the spot we had slept in. I heard Nudge mumble, "I still want a bath."

I stopped and turned to her. "You want a bath?" She nodded, and I licked my thumb and ran it across her forehead. "There's your bath; let's go."

She glared at me, and I turned around and kept walking. It's gonna take them a while to get used to being on the run, without baths, food, and clean clothes every day. . . . Meh. They'll have to learn to deal.

About five minutes later, we were standing in front of a hot dog vendor, getting two each. I handed them their food.

The vendor said, "Ten dollars."

I pulled out the little money I had from my pocket, and handed him two fives. I looked down at the money that was still in my hand and sighed. I only had about two dollars and fifty cents left, which really stinks when you have to feed seven people. Oh, God, now I sound like some poor woman who has to take care of her family.

"Hey, Max?" Angel asked me as we sat down on some benches. "What are we going to do now that we don't know where the Institute is?"

"Um . . ." I said, trailing off.

"You have no idea, do you?" Fang asked, smirking.

"Yes I do," I protested.

"Then what is this oh so brilliant plan of yours?" Iggy asked.

_I never said it was brilliant . . . _"Um. . . ." Since I am probably the luckiest person on Earth right now (Besides that one person who won the lottery), I saw a library. "A library." I pointed towards it, and Fang raised an eyebrow.

"What are you pointing at?" Iggy asked.

"A giant caterpillar the size of the Empire State building, Igs," I said, rolling my eyes. "It has, like, acid spit." I laughed. "Let's go."

Library

I didn't like the librarian. She gave me a dirty look and said, "You have to sign in to use a computer," then handed me a clip board. I bit my lip and scratched down Mary-Sue Patterson. For all I knew, that wasn't her real name. And it's kinda payback for not telling me.

I went to the nearest computer, and clicked onto the Internet. During the rush to get out of town, Skid had forgotten to grab our crappy laptop. But it had been about to die on us, anyway - it wouldn't have lasted long.

I got onto Google - it'll have an uprising one day and rule the world, I swear - and typed in 'The Institute for Higher Living', clicked enter, and was sucked into the Internet. Not really, but I got a headache after about staring at the screen and trying to figure out what half of those big words meant, when there was another thirty million awaiting to make my brain explode.

"This would be a good fucking time to be Sanity," I said through my teeth and rubbed my temples. This wasn't the same brain attack I had the other day - this just hurt in the front of my head, and felt more like someone kept jabbing a stick into it. I typed in a huge scientific word in dictionary dot com and . . . hit my head against the key board. Repeatedly.

I looked up at the screen. I seemed to have typed 34MKKNMAX8JM into the Google bar. Oh, what the Hell? I wasn't getting anywhere with the stuff that actually made since. So, I hit the enter key.

And hit the jackpot. Seriously, it came up with a bunch of scientifical sites and junk. I clicked on one, and it said I had to have about five bajillion passwords _and _a user name _and _an e-mail address. Geez, talk about high-security.

I was about to hit the 'go back' thing, when Nudge said, "I can get in there for you."

I jumped. I had forgotten she was here. I raised an eyebrow at her. "And how can you do that?"

She pushed me out of the seat and started to type into the computer. "I'm really good with electronics. And cars. And I can sense past experiences or inanimate objects, kinda like a psychic. Cool, no?"

I nodded, smiling at her. "Very cool."

She continued to type into the computer. "Hey, I'm sorry for acting like such a brat this morning. I guess I'm just not used to the whole 'no shower fo yoo' type deal."

I chuckled at the Seinfeld reference. Oh, Seinfeld, you make me laugh. "I understand. It'll take a while to get used to, but you'll learn to deal."

She nodded, and pressed a few more buttons. "There. We're in."

"Finally!" Skid exclaimed and came around from somewhere. "We've been here for five hours."

I rolled my eyes, and everyone came around the computer. "So what did you find?" I asked Nudge.

"A lot of big words," she said, and kept scanning the screen. "Transgenic organism . . . more big words . . . New York . . . big words . . . Avian . . . and, oh, look, big words."

"Can you try to pronounce the words?" Iggy asked.

"Yeah . . . he-co-foxse- yeah, this isn't working."

I sighed, and everyone else groaned. The librarian shushed us, and I resisted the urge to flip her off. I am not one to be shushed.

"Looks like we're at a dead end. Again," Fang said. He looked really tired, despite his efforts to keep his face impassive.

I sighed again and put my head in my hands. "I say we go get some food and call it a day. Go sleep in some trees in Central Park. All for, say I."

Several I's later, we were stealing hot dogs from a vendor. Seriously. I ordered everything, hand them to the guys, and then we'd run. Oh, the joys of being on the run.

"You rotten kids!" he yelled at us as we ran away.

"I think Scooby Doo copyrighted that!" I yelled back at him.

We ran for a while, until we were at some park with tress and what not. We went into a secluded part of it and flew up into the trees, laughing our asses off.

I bit into the hot dog (Please. Keep your mind out of the gutter.) and told Gazzy, "Say it again."

He smiled, and cleared his throat. Then said in the same voice of the vendor, "You rotten kids!"

We burst into another round of laughter. It was just to stereotypical, it was funny. He had that old man voice that sounded like he had been gargling nails.

We finished up our food - it was delicious - and sat in the tree for a while, patting our full stomachs, until Angel asked the question I really didn't want to hear.

"So what do we do now?"

I sighed and closed my eyes. "Go back to looking in the sewers again, I guess. not the best option, but at least it is one."

Silence for a while. I said, "Let's get some sleep. We have an early morning for us."

Yeahs and oks came from somewhere in the trees, and I leaned back to let sleep come for me.

It felt like I had been asleep for about five seconds before I heard someone say, "Please come down from the tree."

I cracked open my eyes and said, "Wah?"

A cop with a cop car and a megaphone thingymajig stood in front of the tree we were sleeping in. She said into the megaphone thing, "It's illegal to climb trees in Central Park. Please come down."

I narrowed my eyes at her. But before I could say anything, or think, really, her pupils dialated, she got back into her cop car, and drove away. Yeah, you read me right. Got back into her car, and drove away without another word. My head swiveled to Angel, who looked just as shocked as I was. Everyone else was staring at her, too.

"Hey, don't look at me," she said, putting her hands up.

"Then what the Hell made her go away?" Gazzy asked.

I squinted at the branch behind Angel, then smiled. "Sanity."

"What about your sanity?" Iggy asked, and I rolled my eyes.

"No," Fang said, grinning. "Sanity."

"Aw," the blob that was perched behind Angel said. "It's good to know that I'm remembered."

Everyone else - besides me, Angel, and Fang - jumped.

"Good to see- er, hear you, Sanity," I said. "Hows it hanging?"

I saw the blob move, and Sanity was soon in the moonlight. Ankle length skirt, and a black hoodie, of course. "Pretty good. Been messing with this cops mind to keep her from messing with these bird kids, though. Man, those birds are annoying."

I glared at her. "Where's JP?"

"At the hotel," she said, and shrugged. "Big baby didn't want to sleep outside."

"Hotel?" Nudge asked, and I could practically hear the gears in her head moving. "Like, with a-"

"Like with a shower and a sink and a bed and a place to wash your clothes," Sanity finished for her. "And you're welcome to come."

"I don't-"

"We'll accept," Fang said, and shot me a look that said, 'Don't question me.'

I bit my lip and nodded. "But just for tonight."

The hotel - Fang

Nudge came out of the bathroom, and said, "If I was gonna die right now, at lest I would die clean."

I rolled my eyes, and Angel got off the bed she, Max, and Skid were sharing and walked into the bathroom with an oversized shirt, then shut the door. I heard the lock click.

"So what now?" Gazzy asked.

"Well," Iggy said. "We can go running down the halls like maniacs, go up and down the elevators, jump off the roof and watch people scream at the kid who's about to commit suicide, _or _we can wait for food. I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure I don't want do that last one. No thank you."

Gazzy rolled his eyes, and laid down on the bed. "Food it is."

I had forgotten how pale he was until he got all the dirt off of him. Ok, we had only spent about three or four days without showers, but that gives your skin a lot of time to collect mud and a bunch of other crap.

Sanity was leaning against the dresser thing at the other side of the room, and she said - dare I say it - _badass._I know, I know. But she had gotten another piercing, a lip one this time, and I swear I saw black ink crawling up her neck. Leather pants, black combat boots, and a leather best for a shirt. Ok, she's about thirteen, and thirteen-year-olds don't wear that. I blinked, and it was all gone. WHAT THE FUCK?

"Oh, sorry about that, " Sanity apolgized. "I've been kind of testing my limits. I can kind of make people see what I want now, too. Isn't that fun?"

"So you used me as a test subject?" I asked, my voice mad. Not like mad crazy, but more like 'Imma beat you with a stick' mad.

"No," she said, and kept her voice calm. "I don't have control of it quite yet." She shrugged. "For now, you see what you see. It's there, or its not."

I nodded, even though I didn't exactly believe her. Then Max decided to join us, wearing guys boxers and a tank top, her blond hair wet. "It feels good to be clean, I can tell you that."

I hate to sound like some major-ass perv for saying this, but Max looked freaking sexy. Ever noticed how when a girl wears guys clothes or has wet hair (Like I said, major-ass perv.) looks sexy?

Sanity glared at me, and snapped, "Keep your thoughts clean, will you."

I glared at her, and Max raised an eyebrow. "I'm going to blame it on your hormones."

Iggy, Tank, Skid, and Sanity snickered. Angel came out of the bathroom, wearing one of Iggy's shirts that reached below her knees and some pajama pants. No, not Iggys - her own. I'm pretty sure they wouldn't fit her.

We ate some pizza, and joked around for a while. Then we laid down in the beds, Iggy, me, and Tank in one. Skid, Angel, and Max in another. Gazzy and Nudge in the third.

All I wanted was a night sleep without Max kicking me in the gut. But of course, my life never goes as planned.

**Ergh. I'm tired as Hell, and don't feel like conversing. G'night.**

**- Sanity**


	18. Any Sense Left In Your Body

**Reading is my escape  
From the pressure and expectations.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride. Dammit . . . WHEN, WHEN, WHEN?**

Max

Isn't it just so lovely when you wake up, and you almost strangle someone? What do you mean, 'you haven't done it'? Then you have not lived!

But anyways, I was rudely awoken by someone shoving my shoulder. So, of course, just when I wake up, my instincts usually take control of my body. So I grabbed my "attackers" hand, and flipped her onto the bed in my spot. I was straddling her, and my hand was tightened around her throat. I didn't notice who it was or what it looked like.

"Max . . ." she croaked. "Let me . . . go."

I then realized it was Sanity I had pinned beneath me, her throat under my hand. Oh, that's is just fantastic.

"Fuck," I muttered, and let her breath again. She gasped for breath for a few seconds, then regained her composure.

I glared at her, and didn't remove myself from the position I was in. I was too tired. Yet, I managed to get us in this position and almost strangle her to death. I don't know how I did it, but I did. "What do you want? And more importantly . . ." I yawned. "Why did you wake me up?"

She glared back it me in the dark. I wondered if she could see me. "Oh, no reason. Just thought you should know something . . ."

"What is it?" I asked.

"Oh, you aren't interested. Why don't you just go back to sleep? I'll sing you a lullaby."

I glared harder at her, and she held my gaze. "Now you have me interested. Why is it?"

She was about to reply something sarcastically, but I glared at her and said in a warning tone, "Sanity . . ."

She said, "Fine, fine. You should know there are Erasers trying to get our room numbers right now and dispatch of the bird kids, bat girl, and rogue scientist. Just so you know."

My brown eyes widened considerably, and I was about to reply when light pierced the darkness. A bed side lamp had been turned on, and was awakening the other bird kids from their sleep.

"What the _Hell _are you doing?" Fang hissed.

If it was possible, my eyes widened even more. I looked down at the position Sanity and I were in, and blushed, knowing what it looked like since we weren't really beating the crap out of each other.

"I second that," Skid said drowsily beside me.

"What's going on?" Iggy asked.

"Max is straddling Sanity," Fang answered, and his voice sounded oddly . . . I dunno . . . _different._

"What I would pay to be able to see right now . . ." Iggy muttered, and glared at the lamp. "Why do all the bad things happen to me?"

My whole face was as hot as a volcano, but that didn't stop me from saying, "Get your asses up, right now."

"Geez, Max," Iggy said. "Just because you were caught experimenting with your sexuality doesn't me-"

He didn't finish, because I all but launched myself at him. And he was, like, two beds away. And I landed on his bed. SKILL, people, SKILL. Or . . . GENETICALLY ENHANCED, people, GENETICALLY ENHANCED. . . . Nah. Doesn't have the same ring to it.

"Iggy," I hissed. I was on the side of him, and Tank's arm was draped over my feet. I had Iggy's shirt in my fists. "If you have any sense left in your body, you won't finish that sentence and will get your crap together, because we're leaving. Now."

It was amazing. My voice must have scared the crap out of him since he didn't make a sarcastic comment, didn't say _anything. _He just gulped, and yanked his shirt out of my hold, then fell off the bed.

I turned to the other mutants, who were staring at me wide eyed. Even Fang. "That goes for the rest of you. Get your gear." No one protested. No one said a word. Well, besides Sanity.

"Iggy, I swear to God if you don't get that image out of your head, you'll never be able to think about woman again without your brain exploding."

I don't think I want to know what he was thinking about. . . .

"No, you don't," Sanity answered my unspoken question? Thought? Both? I'm sorry I haven't had sixteen years of education to help me with my English. Or anything esle, for that matter. But that's not the point.

What was the point? Oh, that there was someone slamming on the door right now, and it wasn't exactly the toughest thing out there. And by that, I mean it was splintering as I thought.

"Out through the balcony," I hissed through my teeth, and helped Sanity push a dresser in front of the door, just as a hairy fist went through it. HOLY SHIT. They don't nail these dressers to the floor? What's wrong with these people?

"Shit," I whispered, and watched as Angel jumped off the balcony railing. Gazzy followed right next to her.

Fang was standing by the balcony door, and glared at the door. "C'mon, Max. Get your ass out here, before I have to drag it."

I shot Sanity a look, and she gritted her teeth and pressed her shoulder harder against the dresser. "I'm with him. Leave, now."

I shot her another look, and then launched myself across the room. I heard the door slam open, and Sanity groan oh-so-quietly. But I didn't turn around and look to see if she was hurt - it would probably get me killed.

I dashed out of the room, onto the balcony, and jumped over the edge. Free falling is like . . . er, how do I explain this to someone without wings . . .? It's kinda like going on a roller coaster, adrenaline in your system, it might give you a heart attack even though you're about sixteen. So, that just makes it even better.

But of course, all good things must come to an end. I pulled my wings out, to make sure Max didn't go splat. The air caught the tan and brown feathers, and almost yanked them out of their socket. But since I didn't cry when I had gotten shot in the gut (Yes, I survived. But it hurt like a son of a-), I didn't cry now. What I did do was clamp my teeth down, and bite my tongue until I tasted blood.

You will not cry out, you will not cry out . . . And, hey, it actually worked.

Fang

We were currently sitting in the sewers. Well, it was more like an old subway (Eat fresh!) tunnel, where a bunch of homeless people had made camp. No, literally. It was more like a tiny town than an old subway tunnel. *face palm* I made that sound dirty, didn't I? No? UGH. So I just had to point it out to you people, didn't I? I mean, what type of idiot am I? It's almost as bad as Iggy. Almost. Not quite, but almost. It's a frightening thought.

Nudge, Gazzy, and Angel were asleep. Iggy was staring up at the curved ceiling, even though he wouldn't see it. Skid was curled into Tank, and he hand his arm around her. Those two were inseparable. The only time they were apart was when they were sleeping or flying, and still then they were close to each other. I guess it was a bird thing . . .

And unexpectedly, my mind started to turn towards Max. No, I'm not messing with you. I just loved everything about her - her smile, the way her hair fell in her face, how her teeth somehow seemed to stay white _all the time_, even how she freaking _smelled. _

If that's not a sign of an official creeper, I don't know what is. I mean, how sick is that? I like how someone smelled? What the fuck? You can like the perfume or cologne they're wearing or whatever, but you can't like how they smell, with a layer of sweat and dirt all over their body.

I looked over at Max, who was leaning against a wall with one of her fingers twitching. It always did that when she was hyped up with nerves.

I sighed and leaned back against the wall, my eyes closing. It was weird. Once all my seeing was shut down, it was like I could smell, hear, and taste things so much sharper than with my eyes open. My eyes opened, and the other genetically enhanced senses dulled.

I looked at my hands, and glared at them. A forty minute shower's affects gone in three minutes. Must be a record of some sort.

"Fang," Max said from beside me. "Fang, you asleep?" Then she shoved my shoulder. And let me tell you, Max isn't gentle.

"What?" I snapped. "Are you going to cause me more bodily harm?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. Just depends on what type of mood I'm in. But guess what."

"_What?_" I snapped. I'm so repetitive.

"I know where the Iinstitute is."

**I am so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, sorry I haven't updated in forever and ever and ever. I had science fair, Saturday detention, and a whole lot of other stuff. **

**This chapter stinks. Forgive me. But what you get is what you get, so deal.**

**JP: You could be a little nicer.**

**Me: But that's not how things work.**

**Reviews are awesome, SUPER HOT EUROPEAN guys are awesomer, and bacon is awesomest. Unfortunatly, since it is not yet possible to give me the last two over the Internet, I'll have to deal with those dreaded reviews. Oh, darn . . .**

**- Sanity**


	19. Puzzle Pieces

**Disclaimer: Hmm? What do you mean, I don't own Maximum Ride? I DO! **

**Big lawyer dude: No, you don't. *stares expressionless***

**Me: Bring it on, Sweet-cheeks.**

Max

The only thing that smells worse than Gazzy's farts, is the sewers of New York. And that's a close call.

"Man, it smells like one of Gazzy's farts amplified by a thousand," Iggy complained.

"Oh, suck it up ya big baby," Skid told him, making everyone else snicker, even Fang.

"Hey!" Gazzy protested. "My farts aren't that bad!"

"Yes they are," everyone agreed.

"Hey, Max?" Angel said. "How much farther do we have to go to reach the Institute?"

I furrowed my brow. I could barely make out Angel's golden hair in the dark, even with the super-duper-raptor vision some whack-job scientist decided to build into me. So, it was dark.

"Not sure," I said. "In the vision thing, all I saw was a door in the sewers, and Sanity was standing in front of it, jumping up and down like a mad man."

Fang groaned. "So basically we're putting all our trust in a girl named 'Sanity'?"

"Yep," Skid said. "'Cause when you're us, you take the leads you got, and follow them."

"What if this is a trap?" Tank asked.

Skid shrugged. I could barely make out the motion. "Then it's a trap, and we fly away. Everything works out."

"Mmhm," Fang muttered. "Sure."

Silence. Silence is good. Silence is bad. Silence stinks.

We were trudging through the sewers of New York ('Ew' doesn't even cover it.), and our jeans would probably never recover from the smell. Or our noses. There's one upside to this: Gazzy's farts probably won't have the same affect on us anymore. I think Gazzy's pretty bummed about it, but everyone else was just jumping with joy! Ha ha, no.

While we were "sleeping" (AKA, closing our eyes in HOPE of sleep.), I had another killer headache. But since there were no buildings to fall off of this time, I managed to keep my mouth clamped shut for long enough for it to pass.

What did I see? Well, mainly a bunch of numbers, buildings that looked absolutely ridiculous as they twisted and reformed and whatnot. Finally, there was something that actually made sense for about two seconds. Sanity was jumping up and down in front of a door in the sewers like a maniac, so I took that as, 'this is where you're supposed to be, idiot.'

And trusing through sewers we go! She'llbe coming through the sewers when she comes, when she comes, she'll be coming through the sewers when she comes . . . WHEN SHE FUCKING COMES.

"Max, is that the door?" Nudge asked, and pointed at a surprisingly clean door on the side of the sewer walls.

"Yes!" I exclaimed.

"Hallelujah!" Iggy screamed, and sloshed his way over to the door. I swear, he was gonna kiss it. Just the thought made me want to gag.

Everyone waddled (I like that word, alright?) there way over to the door, and looked at it. Why are we looking at a door? Well, because there was no person saying, 'Welcome home, my children! Shall I make you a snack?' Ha, no. There was no door knob, no pushy thingy, no eye-scanner to make sure I was an evil idiots- excuse me, _scientist, _as Jeb would say. God, I hate that man.

"Well, looks like we have nothing," Gazzy said, his dirt crusted face falling. "Back to Central Park."

"Oh, come _on!_" I screamed. "I did _not _ruin a perfectly good pair of jeans for nothing!"

Kids, don't try this at home.

I kicked the door as hard as I could, and-

Nothing happened. Isn't that just fucking _fantastic? _

Actually, I take it back. Something did happen.

I fell backwards. Into sewer water. Again, 'Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ewwwwww' doesn't even cover it.

Luckily, I had fallen in a shallow part. I don't know, ok? All I knew was that the water was only about an inch thick.

Fang put his hand down to help me, supressing his laughter.

I put up a hand. "Don't. Touch. Me." I glared into the darkness, and laid in the sewer water for what felt like an hour. But it was probably only about a minute, since something creaked.

I did that totally bad-ass thing where you jumped up with your back and legs, and landed on my feet. Yeah, I'm awesome, even if I do smell like the sewers of New York. Deal with it, bitches.

When I looked up, I saw a bright light . . . and God was waiting for me on the other side, saying, "Come, my child."

Psh. Yeah. _Riiiiiight._Like that'll ever happen.

It was more along the lines of, "Who's there?" From a strangely attractive Whitecoat. He was cute in that geeky way, with thick, black rimmed glasses, and neatly trimmed hair, with black pants and - you guessed it - a white lab coat.

What the fuck? Why am I describing this random Whitecoat?

I had him unconscious in one and a half seconds, flat. I sprinted into the Institute, and knocked out the closest evil scientist in reach. Oh, the joys I was having.

I swiveled my head to the side, and saw that everyone else had copied my actions, rushing into the pure white room (Gave me a headache.) and throwing punches and kicks, bringing them to their knees or knocking them out cold.

I saw Nudge glare hard at one girl, who was different from the others. She had red/brown hair, and blue eyes, which was oddly familiar . . .

"Miss me, Alex?" Nudge growled, and punched the girl in the nose, which was then gushing blood.

I was so proud.

The an alarm started going off. Pride would have to wait for later.

The girl, Alex or something, stumbled backwards, her hands going to her nose, the blood staining the front of her white shirt. Hee-hee. Oh, how I love causing other people misery.

Nudge punched her in the gut, the ribs, and then was about to punch her throat, but I caught her fist in my hand before she could. She looked at me, and her eye held a wild look.

"We don't want to kill her, kay?" I said gently.

Nudge nodded, then said to me, "Sorry."

I raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

She smiled at me, and I turned towards Alex, my gentle-ness turning into a cold-hearted glare that would make a ninja pee their pants. "What's the code?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she snapped, and then I slapped her across the face.

"Don't give me any crap," I snarled at her, and felt Nudge wince beside me. "You know damn well what I'm talking about."

"No, I do-" I cut her off with a punch this time. She wanted to play this game, I'd let her play. But she had to know who she was playing against.

"We're going to play a game," I said in a sickly sweet voice that almost made me puke. "Every time you give me an answer I don't want, I'm going to slap you, and every time you tell me a lie, I'll screw up that pretty little face of yours even more, kay?"

She glared at me, and the glare almost made me laugh. I chuckled to myself.

"Um, Max?" Iggy's voice said. "Aren't you taking this a little over board?"

"She knows what she's doing," Skid backed me up.

I smirked, and asked Alex, "Now, what's the code?"

"I do-" I raised my fist, and she winced involuntarily. "Alright, I'll tell you everything you want to know. Just don't hit me again."

I smiled at her. "Now was that so hard? Now, what's the code?"

"Six, seven, eight, two, four," she answered quickly, and I nodded at Nudge, who stood from her crouch and walked to this huge-ass computer, which was connected with wires to more computer screens, and on and on.

"Next question," I said to Alex. "What was your latest experiment?"

She swallowed hard, and said, "I don't know."

I slapped her across the face. "Try again."

"They were trying to make more of you. They think you're a complete and total failure, too feely, you care too much. Too much of a mother figure," she hissed. The alarm wen off. "Which is why they want _me _to take your place."

"Then what?" I asked. "Send me off to Hawaii, where hot Hawaiin guys wait on me hand and foot?" I asked her, sarcasm dripping from my words.

"Not that nice of a reteirment plan," Alex replied. "More like put you under the knife."

I narrowed my eyes at her, then asked the question that had been itching me under my skin. "What do you know about Sanity and a guy named James Patterson?"

Alex wrinkled her face in obvious disgust and hatred. "James Patterson was one of the major brains of the Library." By now, everyone had gathered around Alex. "He was the electronic guy. If something needed fixing, he'd get it done. Research? He was on it." She scoffed. "But he somehow managed to not know about the full extent of the experiments. How far the other scientists were willing to go just to get answers. When he did find out, it wasn't pretty.

"When I was five, they took way more DNA than they had from any experiment from me, almost so much it killed me. But it didn't, obviously. Then they took it to the Library.

"By then, James had figured out about _everything._How they'd send small amounts of electricity through people's bodies for hours, just to see what would happen, or put wires into the experiment's brains to see the reaction. And ya know what they did with my DNA? Made an egg from it. Like, a human egg. And made a _clone of me._James made the worst decision possible and became attached to the experiment, almost like a father. The day after the scientists did major surgery - one that would fail, and they knew it - James took the experiment and ran away with it. Some say that he fixed up the experiment himself, mainly the high-ups who have connections, and the lower regions are certain it's dead.

"And Sanity?" She raised an eyebrow in a way a chess player would when they were about to give in the final blow. "Well, I think you can piece the rest together."

Everyone stared at her blankly, except Angel, who knew exactly what she was talking about.

What the hell was that last line about? I couldn't-

Then it all clicked together, like pieces of a puzzle.

**SUPER HOT EAUROPEANS, Bacon, beef jerky, and hot Hawaiins to anybody who can put it together.**

**- Sanity**


	20. Many Uses of Public Bathrooms!

**Ok, Sanity, you can do this . . . I, Sanity Sonottellingyou, am a . . . am a . . .**

**Skid: Come on, Sanity! You can do this!**

**Me: No, I can't! I just can't!**

**Tank: *slaps me across the face* C'mon, Sanity! **

**James: You can do this!**

**Disclaimers: I don't own Maximum Ride. So sad . . .**

Fang

I can't believe I didn't figure it out sooner. They looked just like each other. The hair, the eyes, and slightly how there faces were shaped, even though Sanity's cheekbones weren't quite as prominent. Sure, they had there differences: The ear piercings, how bratty Alex sounded, and the whole I-can-destroy-your-mind-fear-me thing Sanity had going on.

Max was the first to recover from the shock, besides Angel - who had probably known all along, the little bugger. She stood up from her crouched position, and I was disappointed - I could see her underwear from that position. What? Is so that unnormal for a person to notice?

Then, she did something unexpected and kicked Alex in the head, knocking the Sanity-maker out of conscienceness. I flinched on the inside. Yeah, Alex was a total bitch, but that must hurt like a son of a gun.

"Was that really necessary?" Gazzy asked her.

Max shrugged. "Yes, it was. Now let's get the experiment's out of the cage's before some type of super Eraser army comes and attacks us."

We all nodded, and walked to the glass door where you could see cage after cage. It was pretty much the same as it was three years ago, except it seemed smaller.

"Hey, Nudge?" Skid asked. "Is there some type of code that can open all the cage doors at once? It'll take at least an hour for us to open all of these."

"I'll see," Nudge said, and then jogged over to the massive as Hell computer. It was huge.

Max pushed on theglass doors, and nothing happened. She narrowed her eyes, and then said, "They must have hyped up security after you guys broke in . . ." Then, she took a few steps back, ran towards the door, and kicked it.

Instead of her bouncing back or falling down like she had in the sewers - which I had sorta hoped she would, since it was so funny - the doors cracked, and she kicked it again. This time, it shattered into a million pieces, and Max kicked it again, and the pieces of glass falling into the room.

"That was probably bullet proof glass," Gazzy said slowly.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side," I heard Iggy mutter.

Max smirked. "Too late," she replied, and then stepped into the room with all the cages, glass crunching under her booted feet. I inwardly winced, since I knew the wrath of those boots. I temporarily felt bad for the glass, but then remembered it was an inanimate object. Dur.

We all followed Max into the room, besides Nudge, who was rapidly typing on the keyboard. I wondered how she typed that fast . . .

"Open cages while Nudge is working n the code," Skid recommended, and then crouched by a cage which held something that looked like a human with fur patched onto its body, and what looked like warts on the rest of the open skin. It sent shivers down my spine.

We all went to other cages, and opened the doors, letting the experiments out in the open. A lot of them didn't even get near the cage door before we left. I'm about to sound like a total wuss, but it was heart breaking.

Angel

_People . . . new . . . pain . . . so bright . . . cage . . . punish . . . hurt . . ._

I wanted to yell at the voices to stop, but I knew it wouldn't do any good. They weren't outside, but in my _head._ Yeah, yeah - you think I'm crazy. I probably am.

I walked up to a cage that held a badly disfigured human/animal/hybrid, and it made me want to cry. I could hear its thoughts, and they weren't so pretty. I opened the doors of the cage, and soothed its thoughts so it wasn't so afraid of me. Well, I tried. It didn't work out very well, since he/she scooted bag into the corner of the cage when I put my hand in it to help.

I frowned, and then moved to the next cage, which made me raise a sharp eyebrow. It was just a dog. A little black Scottie, which looked like the one from the Wizard of Oz. It was so . . . cute!

"Here, boy," I said, and snapped my fingers together. He looked up at me with intelegent eyes, and cocked his head to the side. I tried again. "Here boy!" and snapped my fingers together again.

This time, he came towards me and jumped into my arms, then started to lick my cheek with a slobbery tongue. I giggled, and said, "Stop *giggle* it." He stopped licking me, and I set him on the ground.

I started to jog towards te next cage, but then notice he wasn't following. I turned around and then said, "Well, come on!"

He started trotting after me, and then went into a jog, and was soon running next to me to the next cage. Just then, all the doors burst open.

"Gah!" I screeched, and then stopped. Experiments were coming willingly out of their cages, and I smiled down at Total. "Come on, Total. Time to go." Then I turned around and started to run back towards the ex-glass doors.

Max

As soon as we were out of the lab, we heard the growling. And growling is always a good sign! Puh-lease.

"Shit," Tank muttered, and then the Erasers came out of the shadows.

There were only about ten of them. We could totally take em. Like, totally. Like, _totally,_ totally.I could take them alone.

"Oh, look, boys," Ari said, and I snarled at him. "We're having birdie for dinner. And their little friends, too." He cackled at his own lame joke.

"That's the best you could come up with?" Skid asked. I completely agreed.

"Less talking," some Eraser said, "more eating."

And then they launched at us.

Five minutes later

All the experiments had fled by now, and I didn't blame them. When you haven't had years of experience with them, it makes em pretty damn scary.

"U and a, on three!" I yelled. "One, two-"

And then we were in the air, flying down the sewers.

"Igs, you got an bombs on you!" Skid yelled.

"Me?" Iggy asked, sarcasm dripping off his words. "Why, me, poor innocent-"

"Now is not the time for you crap!" I yelled. "I know you've got a bomb on you, so fucking throw it at them!"

When I want to be, I can be a real demanding bitch. But that's just how I roll.

Iggy took a bomb out of _somewhere _- where does he keep them? Psh, like I'm going to tell you - and threw it back at the sewer wall.

There was a big boom. And the bird kids have left the building!

Out if New York's Sewers

"Ugh, this is disgusting."

"I'll have nightmares for the rest of my life."

"Ugh."

"Nasty."

"Woof."

Ok, that last one was a little odd. I looked at Angel, who was what seemed like where the sound had come from, and raised an eyebrow.

She looked at her backpack guiltily, and undid the zipper. As soon as she did that, a little Scottie head popped out of the pink fabric, and started to pant.

"Angel!" I said. "We can't keep a dog!"

"But, he was so cute!" she defended herself. "You can't say not to that face!"

I leaned my face real close to the dog's, my nose pressing against his, and said, "No."

"Max! Please!" she begged, and whipped out the big guns. Bambi eyes.

I shot a glare in Skid's direction, who giggled and nodded. Why that little weasel . . .

"Fang, you deal with her," I said, and jerked my thumb in Angel's direction. The emotionless brick wall should be able to say no to those evil Bambi eyes.

Imagine how surprised I was when he said, "The first time you forget to feed him, we're dropping him off at the pound."

Now, when we could barely feed ourselves, how were we going to feed a dog?

That reminds me . . . I gave a devilish smirk, and then pulled the shiny black card out of my pocket.

"Anyone in the mood for Subway?" I asked, and waved the card in the air.

Everyone eyes became the size of dinner plates, and I swear Gazzy was drooling a little bit. Just a little bit.

"How did you . . ." Fang trailed off.

I shrugged. "I swiped the credit card from some Whitecoat. No big deal."

"Ok, I'm fine with going into Subway with dirty clothes," Nudge said, and then wrinkled her nose. "But I am _not _going in there smelling like this."

Skid grinned. "The let us be the first to introduce you to the many uses of public restrooms!"

**This chapter sucks. I know.**

**And if any of you can guess what my addiction is, I'll give you some virtual SUPER-HOT EUROPEANS.**

**- Sanity**


	21. See It From Space

**I just discovered that my iPod touch has Pandora! How freaking awesome can this thing **_**get**_**?**

**JP: If it made perfect beef jerky.**

**Me: You get me so well.**

**Oh, and you people had wonderful guesses for my addiction. But they are all, sadly, wrong. Well, besides one or two. What is my addiction? It's . . . GUM! I love the stuff! I had a space maintainer in for four years, meaning nothing sticky. Including skittles. So . . . That's my addiction. **

**Disclaimer: No matter how I try, I don't own Maximum Ride. **

Don't you just _hate _it when people give you that look? You know, the one that says, 'I'm better than you, and you're wasting the Earth's oxygen.'

Well, that was the exact look the Subway woman gave me. She said in a naisily voice, "Can I help you?"

The voice made me want to shrink back. No, seriously. It was that bad. Like, worse then Fran Fine in _The Nanny_.

But since I am seriously bad-ass (Hey, I have a right to be bad-ass. I just broke bullet-proof glass with two kicks!), I just blinked tiredly at her and snapped, "Yes, you can. You can change your attitude, 'cause I'm not very fond of it. Oh, and sixteen turkey foot longs, on wheat bread, white American, and lettuce and mayo."

The woman's overly-eye shadowed eyes were wide. She started folding turkey onto wheat bread, and what-not.

Angel coughed, and moved her eyes to look at her backpack. I rolled my eyes, smiling. "And a three inch, same."

About fifteen minutes later, we each had two twelve inches swinging from Subway bags, and a coke in our hands. I had given the credit card to some hobo on the side of the road - he started to do a little dance, then went to kiss me. I almost punched him.

"I don't think I'll be able to eat all this," Nudge said, looking at her Subway bag. "I never ate two foot longs before."

"And when did you eat one?" Iggy asked, a strawberry blond eyebrow raised.

"Iggy!" I yelled. "You're disgusting!"

He grinned wickedly. "Hey, it's what I do." He took a sip of his coke, ice rattling.

I sighed and shook my head. I told Nudge, "You'd be surprised what you can eat once you're hungry."

An alley

"You were right, Max," Nudge said, taking a bite of her sub.

I smiled. "Of course I'm right - I'm always right. What was I right about?"

She rolled her eyes and swallowed.

I smiled. "Of course I'm right - I'm always right. What was I right about?"

I shrugged. "We eat, and then I teach you a very important skill."

Skid groaned. "No, Max! We had a deal!"

I smirked. "_Had _being the key word in that sentence, Skid-Mark."

"OK, then let's reform that deal. I'm begging you!"

"What are you talking about?" Fang asked, black eyebrows scrunched together. It made him look uber hot.

SAY _WHAT? _Ughnughtegh . . . I'm losing my sanity. Then again, you can't lose what you never had.

Angel giggled, and my eyes widened.

"Don't you dare!" I said, point a finger at her.

She giggled again, and pretended to zip a zipper across her forehead. I rolled my eyes.

"Anyone want to explain what's going on?" Iggy asked, confused.

"Nothing," I snapped, maybe a little too quickly. Everyone looked at me. I said it again, a little more calmly. "Nothing."

"Uh-huh," Tank said, smirking. "We believe you."

"_Anyway_," Skid said, changing the subject. "Max, it's illegal!"

"And so is combining the DNA of two species and cloning people, but that doesn't stop them from doing it," I countered. She fell silent, and I smirked. I clapped my hands together. "So. Who's up for it?"

"Up for _what?_" Fang asked, frustrated.

"I didn't tell you?" I asked. "We're going pick-pocketing!"

Skid groaned and put her head in her hands. "I can't believe you're actually going to teach them to pick-pocket."

I shrugged. "Meh. Certain things are necessary for survival." I finished my foot long, and jumped into a sitting position. "Come along, my pupils. You shall learn the art of stealing right under people's noses!"

"Sweet," Gazzy said, and Nudge elbowed him in the ribs. "Ow! What was that for?"

"For being an idiot," she replied, and stood up. "I'm with Skid on this one. It's one thing stealing from a white coat, but another taking things from an innocent person."

I sighed. "Ange, come here."

"M'kay," Angel said and skipped over to me, golden curls bouncing. It's amazing what public bathrooms can do now-a-days.

I pointed to a guy who was standing in the middle of the sidewalk, yelling into his people swarming around him and bumping into him. No one seemed to notice. He was wearing a fancy-schmancy suit that probably costs more than a mansion.

"See him? I need you to find out what he does for a living," I told her with a smile. "Can you do that for me without feeling uncomfortable?"

What? I wasn't going to force the girl to do it. And if she felt bad about this, I could still pick-pocket without teaching everyone else to do it. I _do_, have a soul. . . . Sort of. It takes too many vacations, and I think I'm paying it a little too much, but it saves lives.

"Yeppers," she said, popping the 'p'. Oh, kids these days, and their popping . . . Popping 'p's, popping pills. . . . It's all the same!

Angel giggled, and I smiled. The little blond girl focused in on the guy in the suit, and said in this creepy voice, "He's a stockbroker . . . talking on the phone with his boss . . . he's, like, a gazillionaire. Owns at least a thousand stocks . . . his suit costs more than an island off the coast of Mexico . . . he's cheated hundreds of people out of all their money."

I turned to Nudge, grinning. "See? He's not innocent. And I'm pretty sure he can spare a few credit cards for some siffering bird-kids!"

She seemed to deny my logic, but sighed anyway. "Alright, I guess."

I looked at Skid. "You still my partner?"

She gave me this grin. "Forever, bitch."

Fang shook his head. "You two are so weird."

"And that's how we roll, homes," I said, and rubbed my hands together menacingly. "Let's steal from some rich guys. So watch and learn, pupils."

They say stealing is wrong, and it leaves you with a guilty conscience - but, really, it's pretty damn _fun. _So the government's lying to us - but, hey, what else is new?

Skid went off to the side, and I bumped into Mr. Big-shot. "Watch it!" I yelled, getting his attention.

"Watch _what_?" he snapped, just as annoyed. God, I love New Yorkers.

"You ran into me!" I screamed, right in his face. I noticed he was a few centimeters shorter than me. Oh, fabulous hight, how I love you. Jeez, I'm just in a loving mood today, aren't I?

"What!" he screamed. "_You _ran into _me!_"

Skid snuck up on him, and put her small hand in his suit pocket, and pulled out a leather wallet. She grinned at it, and I could tell she was enjoying this as much as I was. Darn, aren't we evil? Like way more evil than those black bunnies in the dead of winter. They're out to get me, I swear.

"You know what? Forget it!" I yelled, kicked his shin - none too softly, either -, and stormed off. Ugh! So rude of him!

. . .

Had you fooled that I really cared there, didn't I? I bet I did. Oh, you know I did. Come on, admit it!

You know, sometimes I really hate you.

Later - in Central Park

We had gone on a shopping spree. Well, we bought clothes that were easy to run in and some sneakers that actually fit (Hallelujah!), and I had gone to a dry cleaners and washed our clothes. Don't you just love that lemon-y smell it gives your clothes?

Jeez, there's that loving feeling again. It's really starting to piss me off. Why can't it just go away? It gets really annoying.

Everyone else was asleep - at least, that's what I thought until Nudge came over and asked, "How do you do it?"

"Do what?" I asked.

"Be on the run all the time!" she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I shrugged. "It's actually pretty easy."

She hugged her knees to her chest and put her forehead on them. "I started my period today."

"Ooh," I said . . . sympathetically? Understand-ly? I don't know! I'm not good with feelings! I hate their guts!

"And it's not like when I was living in a house, witch had a bathroom for privacy or anything," she continued.

I decided to make like a therapist. "Uh-huh." Oh, yeah. I'm that good. Be jealous.

"And it stinks, being on the run all the time, with the Erasers tracking our every move." She was crying now, and I started to rub her back. I watched enough TV to know that's what you do.

"I just hate not taking a shower, and having to pick-pocket, and using public bathrooms to clean all the dirt out of my hair and skin and . . ." Nudge sniffled, and wiped the snot from her nose. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" I asked, my motherly instincts coming out. OK, where the fuck were you a few minutes ago? "For crying about stuff that you have no idea you would have to do?"

"Well, yeah," she said with a sniffle.

"Nudge, it's fine. You're just going to have to adapt to this. Ya know it took me and Skid almost a moth to figure out you can use public bathrooms for cleaning yourself?"

She laughed that choked laugh that always happens when someone cried. "Really?"

"Really," I said, smiling reassuringly. "And we ate rats the first few weeks before we started stealing from hot dog vendors."

"Ew," she said.

"It actually wasn't that bad," I said with a smirk. "Kinda tasted like chicken."

"Ew!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah, yeah. I think I still have some in my teeth. Wanna check for me?" I asked, pulling my lips back so she could see my teeth.

"Ew, no!" she said, giggling.

I sighed, and put my lips back down. "It's not all bad. We have a lot of fun beating the crap out of Erasers. And we get to put the end to the School and all those places."

She thought about this for a minute. "OK, I guess it does have it's up sides. But I have on question for you."

I shrugged. "Shoot."

"What's up with you and Fang?"

"Say _what_?" I asked, so shocked I almost slapped her. Almost.

"Oh, come on, Max," she said in a 'duh' tone. "I see the way you two look at each other. so what's going on?"

I glared at her, and rolled over. "Goodnight, Nudge. You have watch."

"But, M-"

"Good_night_."

The only reason why I had turned over was because I was blushing so much, itcould probably be seen from space.

**Not my best chapter, but whatever.**

**- Sanity**


	22. HOW DID YOU KNOW?

**I'm not talking to you.**

**JP: Why? . . . And why am I asking this question? I should be rejoicing!**

**Me: Because Angel's the last book in the MR series. WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN?**

**JP: While you were asleep. And I thought you weren't talking to me.**

**Me: I'm not.**

**JP: Yes you are.**

**Me: . . .**

**JP: HALLELUJAH!**

**Disclaimer: If I own anything, this isn't it.**

Fang

It started to rain. And rain. And rain some more. Oh, and did I mention it _rained_?

"Well, this is just _fan-freaking-tastic,_" Max said, throwing her hands up in the air.

"I think God hates us," Iggy seconded.

"Yep," I said, popping the 'p'.

"Let's go find some place dry," Max offered, running a hand through her wet hair in frustration.

Why was she so frustrated at the rain? Well, we were supposed to be leaving today - get out out town and move towards the school to kick some white-coat _ass. _But thanks to this fabulous rain, that probably wouldn't happen soon.

"No hypothermia for me!" Skid cheered. "Everyone, all together now!"

I rolled my eyes and muttered to Max, "I think the sewer fumes made 'er a little loopy."

She snickered, and said, "You mean more loopy than she already was?"

I smirked, and Skid sent us a glance. I knew the glance - I had been given it by Anne and Angel and every other girl. It said, _'I knew it!'_. I raised an eyebrow at her, and she turned away, and we kept on running through the rain.

_Why didn't you just fly?_ you ask. Well, since we bird kids _don't _want to be fried chicken, we decided it would be best to stay out of the sky and away from the very dangerous lightning. Don't you think that's a smart idea?

"We should have packed an umbrella!" Skid yelled over the rain, which was now more like a torrential down pour than normal rain. I was shocked there were still people outside, going to their jobs or being evil minions of hell . . . or whatever it is normal people do.

We ran through the cold rain, going as fast as our genetically-enhanced legs and lungs would carry us. Which, if I do say so myself, is pretty fast.

Finally, we got to a coffee place, and took a seat at a table by the window.

"So what not?" Gazzy asked, taking off his wet jacket.

"Now," Max said, standing up. "We get coffee."

Max

When I came back with the eight coffee cups, everyone but me had changed into dry clothes. I put down the food (Oh, glorious food) and coffee, and grabbed my book bag. Everyone attacked the food like ravenous animals (Which I guess they were. Partly, anyway.) and I rolled my eyes.

"Save some for me, will ya?" I asked and walked to the bathroom. I walked in, and it was one of those that was big with a lot of stalls. I checked under the doors of the stalls, smirked, and locked the bathroom door with that handy-dandy little lock they put on it. Quite convenient, ain't it?

I took off my clothes and spread out my wings, feathers moving, happy to be out of my skin and moving their feather-y joints. The cold rain had made them hurt, dammit.

I pressed the button door the hand dryer and put my head under it, hoping to dry it. I rung out the wet blond locks, running my fingers through it to make sure it got extra dry. The hand dryer went out, and I pressed the button again, glad it was one of those super strong ones that can actually move your skin. ISN'T THAT JUST FUCKING _AWESOME_?

Hmmm . . . I put my wings under the dryer and sighed in content. The feathers were being dried quickly, the warmth spreading to my birdy-bones. Ah. Don't you just love being freezing cold and then going into a warm room or jump into hot water or something along those lines? Of course you do.

I pulled some relatively dry clothes bookbag, and pulled them onto my body, along with a pair of dry sneakers and socks. Woopdy-doo. Max is dry again!

Someone knocked on the door and asked, "Can I come in?"

The voice was Skid's. I smirked and asked, "What's the password?"

"Hmmm . . . Oh, I know! Max-let-me-in-or-I'll-beat-the-shit-out-of-you."

I rolled my eyes, smiling, and unlocked the door to let the red-head in.

"So that _was_ the password," she said, smiling.

I rolled my eyes again. Did you notice that if you do that too much you get a headache? Weird. Inconvenient for me, who rolls her eyes too much.

"Did you know you can use these things to blow dry your hair?" I asked Skid, jerking my thumb at the hand drier.

"Why, no, I did not," she replied sarcastically.

"No need to be a smart ass," I responded.

The shorty shrugged. "But why not?"

I tapped my chin thoughtfully. "Good point."

"Thank you," she replied.

I pulled my toothbrush and the minimum amount of toothpaste I had left, and started brushing my teeth.

"So wazzup?" I asked Skid-mark, spitting out the gross-tasting toothpaste. Did you notice how all the toothpaste things are whitening now-a-days? It annoys me, because I don't care about whitening. I just want my teeth clean and what-not.

She shrugged. "Nothing - the bird kids are attacking the food, people are staring at them, the usual." She closed the bathroom door and locked it.

"Nothing abnormal," I replied.

"Nope," she said, popping the p. She boosted herself onto the counter and swung her legs around.

I spit out toothpaste again. "So whatcha wanna talk about?"

"How do you know I want to talk about something?" she asked.

"Skid, I know everything." I wiped my mouth and shoved my toothbrush back into my bag.

"OK, then what am I thinking?" she replied, staring intently at me.

"You're thinking about how Tank would look without clothes on," I replied effortlessly.

"How did you _know _that?" she asked, blushing furiously.

"Wait, that was right?" I asked, brown eyes wide. I started to do the jerk. "Wooh, go Max, go Max, go Max, go Max."

"Oh, shut up," she replied, blushing more if it was even possible.

I snickered. "Whatever, Skid-mark. But what _did _you want to talk about?"

"You and Fang," she said in a sing-song voice, and it was my turn to blush.

"There's nothing going on between us," I replied simply and put my wet clothes under the hand drier. Hopefully, they'd dry up.

"Don't lie to me, Max," she said. "I saw you blushing - blushing means looooooove!"

I gagged. "Don't even talk of such things in my presence, hummingbird!"

"Oh, come on," she said, rolling her eyes. "You can't deny the the way you look at him."

"What-" I started to say, but she cut me off. Classic.

"And how you kissed him so easily that day at school," she said thoughtfully.

"B-"

Once again, I was cut off. "Or how he looks at you."

"_What?_" I shrieked.

"_Or _how he stares at your lips."

"What are you-"

God, this is like cut-off city or something.

"Well, more like that lip ring. You'd think that was all he wanted."

"OK, enough - stop!"

"Aw, but I'm not even a quarter of the way down the list," she said, pouting her pale pink lips. They were naturally all glitter-ified. It was sort of creepy.

"You don't know how much I want to punch you right now," I said, my words menacing.

She smirked and held up her fist playfully. "Bring it on, donkeykong."

I playfully threw punches at her, and we walked out of the bathroom, after unlocked the door and getting my clothes. Duh.

We threw "punches" at each other until we got to our table were everyone was sitting, attacking some muffins like animals.

"What took you so long?" Iggy asked, raising a not-so-innocent eyebrow.

"I"m going to castrate you one day, you know," Fang said, and handed me a cup of coffee.

"Thanks," I muttered, and took it from him. My fingertips brushed his, and an electric spark ran through my arm.

I yanked back my arm, almost spilling the delicious black coffee. Black as my heart . . . black as Fang's eyes . . .

SHUT UP, MAGGOT! my inner drill Sargent said to myself. YOU HAVE NO FEELINGS TOWARD HIM, ARE WE CLEAR? NONE AT ALL!

AYE AYE, CAPPIN'!

"God," Angel said, smiling. "Your conversations with yourself are amusing."

"Max," Gazzy said, putting down his muffin. "Are you going crazy?"

"Too late," Skid muttered, and I kicked her shin.

"Ow, bitch!" she yelled. "That hurt!"

"Good," I replied, and chugged my coffee. When I put down the cup, everyone was looking at me. "What?"

"Max, we need an intervention," Nudge said calmly. "You need to stop talking to yourself.

"It's unhealthy," Skid said, looking like she wanted to roll on the ground laughing.

I rolled my eyes and let them have their fun.

Unknown to any of us, that was the day I died.

**Short? Si. Bad? Si. Review?**

**JP: Si.**

**- Sani-si.**


	23. Rain, Rain, Come Again

**I'm sorry for procrastinating.**

**JP: Tell that to your research paper. It's feeling lonely.**

**Tank: It can't feel lonely if it doesn't exist**

**Skid: True.**

**Me: Hey! I thought you were one my side!**

**Skid: Meh. **

**Me: Traitor. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Maximum Ride, dammit!**

This woman with really big hair and really small eyes came up to the table we were sitting at and said in a perky tone that almost made me puke, "I'm sorry, but you have to leave."

"Why?" Skid asked, her large blue eyes curious.

"You've been here for four hours, and haven't bought anything since the first," she replied, perky voice scaring me half to death. "So you have to leave."

I looked out the window and glared into the rain. It hadn't lessened any of the (as the ever-so-helpful previous cheerleader had chirped out) three hours we were. Fantastic.

"And if we _don't_?" Angel asked, crossing her her arms over her tiny torso.

_That's the spirit! _I thought towards her, and she beamed at me.

"My boss calls the cops," Cheerio said perkily, smiling brightly at us.

I wanted to rip out her vocal cords with my teeth.

I sighed and stood up, towering a good two feet above her. Jeesh, and I thought Skid was short.

"Come on, guys," I said, and then mumbled under my breath so only bird-kids could hear it, "The last thing we need is cops."

All seven bird-kids stood up, and Cheerio wobbled back to the counter in three-inch heels. Holy cow! She must be short!

I walked towards the door, and pulled an umbrella off the umbrella rack and opened it.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Skid said, taking an umbrella herself. "You know what the say, Max."

"The second mouse catches the cheese?" I asked, and stepped outside, everyone having lifted their own umbrella. I'm- *sniffle* I'm so proud.

Nudge rolled her eyes. "_No_, Max. It's bad luck to open an umbrella indoors."

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "I don't believe in superstitions."

Iggy shrugged. "Nothing wrong with being cautious."

I rolled my eyes, grinning. "OK, then how do I get rid of this 'bad luck'." I even used the finger quotes. Oh, yeah. *head roll* I went there.

Fang said, "I think it has something to do with a chicken head, pig intestines, a knife, and tequila."

"Tequila?" I asked, an eyebrow raised.

He shrugged. "It dulls the pain."

"Whatever," I said, turning into and alley and stopping, turning to my own little gang of birdies. "Now, who's up for some flying?"

"In this weather?" Gazzy asked. "Are you _crazy_?"

"Shhh!" I hissed. "Don't say the 'c' word! It makes the voices angry."

I winked, and turned around, since they all seemed apposed to the thought of flying in this weather.

"Yep," Tank said, popping the p. "She's insane."

"You get used to it," Skid replied.

"What do we do now?" Angel asked, coming up to me.

I shrugged. "Find a homeless guy, steal his cardboard box, and cram ourselves in there."

"You're so cruel," Iggy said, glaring at my left ear.

"You want to die from hypothermia?" I asked.

"No," he replied glumly.

"Then shut up. Now, let's find a cardboard box."

As it turns out, homeless people have gotten a lot smarter since I was fourteen. They upgraded to dumpsters - sort of like the zombies on Plants vs. Zombies. They just keep getting tougher and tougher!

So were were leaning against a brick wall now, waiting for the rain to be over. But if time flies when you're having fun, it slows while in a serious case of boredomitis. It's killing students in classrooms, slowly and painfully, as we speak.

I guess all we do now is wait. And wait. And wait. And-

"God, I'm so bored!" Iggy explained.

-wait. And continued with the waiting we shall!

Fang started to bite his thumb nail.

Angel started humming the tune to a Justin Bieber song.

Skid was staring at Tank's face, her eyes glazed over.

Tank had his eyes closed, looking like her was partly asleep.

Iggy kept clicking his tongue.

Nudge was tapping her foot.

Gazzy was attempting to make a snot bubble.

All in good time, young grasshopper. All in good time.

What was I doing? Well, I was thinking up ways to kill someone with one punch. OK, so there's punching them in their throat, crushing their rib cage in just the right spot, a few other things you don't need to know, and-

I looked at the body emerging from the rain, almost like it was building up from the puddles on the ground.

"Let's get out of here," Fang said, and I nodded. _They're finally developing some instincts!_

I nodded my head towards the opposite direction the man was coming in, and we started walking down the alley, feet slapping the wet sidewalk.

The footsteps behind us quickened, and I said, "Run."

We started to run. And so did our pursuer.

Every bird-kid was at a flat-out sprint when Skid yelled, "Dead end! Stop!"

I skidded to a halt, my feet splaying up puddles. My nose stopped an inch away from a brick wall. No, seriously. I was _dis close _to breaking my nose on a brick wall. _Dis close. _

I turned around, and faced the shadow coming from the rain. He was still coming after us, sprinting. I looked around the alley, and saw some trashcans leading up to the roof of short, fat, red brick building.

"Up there!" I yelled to the Flock - which will I will now call them, since calling the gang of bird-kids is way too long.

"How?" Nudge asked, the shadow just getting closer and closer.

"Let me demonstrate," Skid said, and backed up a step. She ran to the trashcan, jumped on top of it, and grabbed the edge of the building. She pulled herself up onto it with ease. "Hurry up!" she called down, peeking over the edge, rain hitting her umbrella which had seen better days.

"Go on," I said, pushing them back a step. "I can handle this douche."

Everyone repeated what Skid had done with ease, and then the shadow was throwing punches. I took a step back with every punch he threw, until my back hit brick wall. The shadow grinned, showing extremely sharp, long canines. He threw a meaty fist at my face, and I ducked the second before it hit my temple.

His fist slammed into brick wall, and I think I heard it crack. Maybe it's my over-active imagination. I magically appeared behind him, and slammed my foot into the back of his knee. The Eraser fell to his knees. He may have super strength, but he still has normal pressure points.

I backed up a step and ran to the trashcan. I jumped on it with a _bang_, and pulled myself onto the roof of the building. I looked down at the Eraser, who had regained his composure. I put my thumbs on my temples, spread my fingers, and moved my thumbs. I stuck out my tongue and made the _blllhhhhh_ sound. I had lost my umbrella.

"You are such a child," Fang said, making me jump.

I looked behind me to find everyone standing over me, shaking their heads. Even Angel was tsking me. I rolled my eyes and looked back down.

"Oh, shit," I said as the Eraser jumped onto the trashcan, and one of his meaty hands appeared on the edge of the roof. "Everybody, to the next roof!"

The Flock rain to the edge of the roof and jumped to the next. Skid hesitated, but I waved her off. "Get outta' here!"

She jumped up to the next roof, just catching the edge. Tank pulled her up the rest of the way.

The Eraser was up on the roof now, and this time he pulled out a knife. The rain hit it, and time seemed to slow down. One drop of rain hit the edge of the blade, and cut the little drop of water in half, sending little beads of H2O out into the world. Yeah, I know what H2O is. BAM!

Back to the present. The Eraser twirled his knife in his hand, grinning. "Just give up now, birdie. Come with me, and I won't hurt you or your friends."

"Fat chance," I snarled, and he attacked.

After a minute or two playing the offense, I punched him in the gut. And damn, he's got a hard stomach. But not in the attractive way. More like the I-hate-you-so-it's-unatractive way. Catch my drift?

He took my weak point to his advantage and, twirling the knife one more time, stuck it into my side. Right above my hip, to be exact.

And it hurt like a son of a bitch. I don't think it hit anything vital, but that just makes it hurt more.

My eyes widened in surprise, and I gave out a little gasp. But then my adrenaline kicked in, and the pain numbed. I pulled myself away from the knife and continued the fight. I threw punches at the shocked Eraser until he was at the very edge of the building. Finally, I poked a finger in his chest and he fell off the building.

Jeezum, you'd think they'd be trained better.

I turned around and ran towards the other building, glad I had dropped my umbrella so the blood wouldn't be obvious against my shirt.

I almost slipped on the wet edge of the building, but Fang caught my hand in his and pulled me up on the roof. Pain flared in my side, but I didn't cry out.

"It's all good," I said to Skid's worried look.

"Did you . . ." Nudge started, and then cleared her throat. "Did you kill him?"

"I think so," I replied, looking back towards the other building. "But rather safe than sorry - let's go back to the park."

Everyone nodded, though we should have gone to the hospital for my knife wound. But I don't trust doctors. Or hospitals. Or florescent lights. They give me the creeps. And the Tellatubbies.

We got down from the building, and the pain in my side worsened, but I sucked it up. I'd be just fine.

We ran to the park, even though my body was screaming at me_ Get medical attention, you dumb ass!_

We finally made it, and I was dragging myself into a tree ever so painfully when my body _wouldn't listen_. My arms felt like noodles, and my legs were plastic. I fell down, my eyes closing by themselves, even though it probably wouldn't have made a difference.

"Max!" someone yelled.

The last thing I heard was, "I think she's dead."

**I'm so proud of the chapter. Can you review?**

**- Sanity**


	24. Yummily Delicious Chinese Food

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

Fang

"Oh my God," Nudge said, kneeling next to Max's . . . body. "I think she's dead."

I kneeled next to her and put my ear to her lips. I couldn't hear anything. I moved my head down to her heart, and didn't hear the thumping of a bird-kid heart, which was louder than a human's.

"Max . . ." Skid said warily, kneeling next Max. "Max, wake up . . ."

I pursed my lips and said, "Move back – I'm going to give CPR."

Super Man theme music time!

Good thing number five about being raised as a normal human being – I learned how to give CPR. What? I've been keeping a list to rub in Max's face later on. Not that I'll have a chance if she, you know, dies.

I put my hands over Max's heart and pressed down, and let up, three times. "One, two, three." Then I opened her mouth and pressed my mouth to hers, and breathed into her lips. I repeated the process.

_It's not going to work, _a voice whispered in my head quickly. _Max lost too much blood. You've got to stop the bleeding. _

"What the Hell does that mean?" I asked loudly, not caring what anyone thought about me. "She didn't get-"

But then I saw a spot on her shirt that was darker than the rest, even with the rain. I pulled it up and almost emptied my stomach of my lunch. There was a nasty cut from her right hip to her ribcage, and it was still bleeding.

_Max's body is still making blood – survival skill the mad-scientists somehow got her body to do. But all the blood is going to heal the giant cut, not to the heart. In other words, you stop the bleeding she might live. _

"Nudge, get that sewing kit you always keep with you and sew together that cut – she might live if we can do that. I'll keep giving CPR."

I looked at Nudge. She nodded, pulled something from her jeans pocket, and knelt next to Max's side. I continued to give Max CPR. One, two, three, breathe. One, two, three, breathe.

_Come on, Max,_ I thought urgently. _Don't do this. Come on, wake up._

"OK, I'm done," Nudge said, and I looked at it. The incision was crudely sewn together, but wasn't bleeding anymore.

_Come on,_ I thought, beating on Max's heart. _Open your eyes, move, something._

"Fang . . ." Iggy said slowly. "I think . . ."

But he didn't tell me, since just then Max's eyelid fluttered. Then she opened her eyes, squinting so they were barely slits.

"Oh my God, Max," Skid breathed, and threw her arms around Max's neck. "Max, Max, Max, Max, Max . . ."

"Ski-skid?" Max asked, stuttering for the first time since I ever knew her. "Wha-at are you doing?"

"I'm about to kill my sister for not telling me about this giant-ass cut on her side," Skid murmured, squeezing Max tighter.

"Skid . . . I can't b-breathe," Max said, but she squeezed the red-head back just as hard.

"Good."

"Yeah, well, I don't expect a thank you for saving your life or anything . . ." I muttered, glaring at the ground. No, I wasn't jealous. OK, maybe a little bit, but I _did _save her life and all . . . the least she could give was a thank you.

I think Max would have rolled her eyes if she could. But she didn't, and she decided to do something I would have never guessed – she kissed me.

No, this wasn't like a chick-flick kiss where it's all romantic and soppy or anything.

What happened was she let go of Skid, who pulled back, smiling, crying a little bit. She turned to me, took my head between her hands – sort of like she did when she first kissed me – and crashed her lips against mine. I was so shocked, my eyes didn't even blink. Instead, they widened to the size of the moon. Then she pulled back, smiled at me, and then hugged me so tightly I swear _I _would need CPR.

"Thanks," she said softly, and I might have possibly missed it if the rain hadn't stopped just then. Well, my day just keeps getting better and better.

Better part of my day: I saved someone's life. YAY! The rain stopped after a wonderful little thing comin' up next. YIPEE! I got kissed by the person whose life I saved who also just happens to be gorgeous, and I like her. HAPPY DANCE TIME!

Ha ha, no. But I was _thinking _it, and it's the thought that counts, right?

When Max pulled back from me, we found our friend's and family's mouths had fallen to the wet ground. Max's eyes widened, like she had just realized what she had down, and her face flushed bright red.

"Uh . . ." Skid said. "How about we go get some food . . ."

At the mention of the sacred food, Max's face returned to its original color, and I swear she started to drool.

"Good – I'm starving."

The Chinese Restaurant – Max

Three words: I love food.

It's, like, my best friend. And soul mate.

So when we got to the Chinese restaurant, I paid for the all you can eat buffet for eight, and I piled my plate as high as a sky-scraper. Then I shoved my mouth with so much food it made Skid look like a child.

You see, Skid has to eat more because her wings and heart move faster, so so does the rest of her body. Meaning she needs more calories a day than me. The average human eats more than twenty-thousand calories a day, even though they only need twenty-thousand. I don't blame them for over-eating – this food is amazing. But we bird-kids need about three times that since we fly, and when I go into super- sonic mode, I need about four times that.

But Skid . . . She needs about five times the amount of a normal human. That's why she eats a lot of sugar.

But today I put her to shame, eating six times the amount of what I have to eat when I go into super-sonic. _Supersonic, supersonic._

Everyone around me stared, open mouthed, as I used the chopsticks to shovel in the Lo Mein into my mouth. Even the blind kid stared at me as Gazzy explained what I had just done.

I licked my lips, swallowed, and asked, "What?"

"You just ate half of your plate in one bite . . ." Tank said in awe. "I'm not sure if I should be afraid or amazed."

"Be afraid," Nudge stage-whispered to him. "Be very afraid."

I glared at her. "Whatever. I'm starving – why am I so hungry?"

"Well, it might have something that you died!" Skid exclaimed, hitting me on the shoulder repeatedly.

"Why are you hitting me?" I asked, holding her at arm's length.

"Because you didn't tell us you got stabbed!" she yelled, and I shushed her.

"I didn't know it was that bad," I protested. "Anyway, what_ did _happen to me?"

"You got stabbed," Iggy replied cheerfully. "Very badly. Fangy-poo here had to give you the kiss of life." He fluttered his eyelashes and got this star-struck look on his face. Then it contorted in pain and he exclaimed, "Ow! Who the Hell did that?"

Fang was glaring at him so hard I thought Iggy's head would burst open, but, unfortunately, it didn't. Damn.

"And plus, he got a kiss back," Nudge said, giggling. Angel joined into the giggle-fest, and both Fang and I blushed. Well, I think he blushed. It might have just been the lighting.

I'm positive _I _blushed, though.

Ari

I narrowed my eyes at the bird-kids, who were having a grand 'ole time eating Chinese next door. I could tell the difference because instead of the bright red or dull orange color of the humans, they showed up bright orange in my infrared. Except a part of one, which was bright blue.

"Boss," I said, blinking. My infrared flickered off. "One of them is heeling rapidly – but it'll be a while 'till she's fully recovered.

"Good," Boss said next to me, flipping the page of her magazine. "That'll give us time to catch them."

"Boss?" I asked, and she looked up at me. "How exactly _are _we supposed to dothat?"

She let out a laugh, and took her feet off the table. She tucked a piece of pale blond hair behind her ear, and looked at me with piercing blue eyes. "You leave that to me, Ari. And call me Anne."

**Dun, dun, dun. **

**Review? Please?**

**- Sanity**


	25. Well Shit!

**Dis of the claimer: I don't own anything. Sad, huh?**

Just so you know, getting cut _hurts. _Getting _sliced, _on the other hand, is a completely different matter.

Not only does it hurt, it burns, stings, makes you want to scream, rip out the eyes of any one in a near-by radius, and pull out their hair. So, add my period into the mix and you get a big 'ole batch of pain brownies.

"Son of a bitch," I swore loudly in the bathroom stall. I was tempted to scrawl it on the wall with permanent marker with all the other pretty words.

"Max, you OK?" Skid asked from the other side of the door.

"Do I _sound _OK?" I asked, and swore again. But this time, it was more of a string of curses. Long enough to make a necklace, in fact. A curse necklace . . . I would buy it.

"Period, huh?" she asked.

"Oh, _no!_" I said sarcastically. "It's just kidney stones – nothing as bad as _that _damn thing."

Another cramp and this mother-bleeper hurt. Looky, here, boys – you are probably the luckiest people alive. So stop complaining about how your girlfriend's a total bitch on her period. She has the right to be as fucking catty as she wants to be, so you'll just have to learn to deal.

Damn – I even act like a bitch in my thoughts when I'm on my period. This isn't really real new news, but it still shocks me because I'm being a bitch to myself. Why, of course I don't need to go to the funny farm! That's crazy talk!

There was a large _crash _when metal hit linoleum. Then Skid's small hands were poking from underneath the door, holding three different tampons.

"Pick a tampon, any tampon!" she said in that overly excited voice of child stealers and criminals who work at carnivals.

I rolled my eyes and snatched one from her hand. "Thanks, Skid-mark."

"No problemo, Maxie-pad," she said, and snickered. "Would you like one of those, too?"

"No – I hate those things," I said, finished the business that needed to be done, and flushed the toilet. I opened the stall door and walked out of the colorfully worded corner. Then I punched Skid's shoulder. "And didn't I tell you not to call me that?"

"Yes, but I ignored you," she replied smiling brightly.

"Of course you did." I walked over to the sinks and washed my hands. What? Hygiene is also important to the feathered.

Then I lifted up the end of my shirt and frowned at the cut. There was no doubt there would be a scar – not like I cared. OK, maybe I did a little bit. But every girl is self conscience about her body, even the ones who were born to be trouble makers and kick major butt, like _moi. _

Boys reading this, you should be taking notes – I'm giving you some valuable info here!

Girls are ubber self-conscience because we not only were raised to be, but because it's in our freaking _genes. _Eve was the first to notice she was naked, to we got the worst affects of it! And then we have the super models and movie stars, like Angelina Jolie and Meagan Fox (lucky bitch).

She can't even act! She's only eye-candy, god dammit! Maybe if she wore something a little bit _more _than lingerie, she would get more respect.

Cough. My period brings out the feminine side of me – so shoot me.

I really don't like Meagan Fox – she could die in a mine shaft for all I care.

And the violent side. Oh, wait, that never leaves. My bad.

"Uh, Max?" Angel said, poking her head into the bathroom. "Why are you thinking about dousing Meagan Fox in lighter fluid, shoving her down a coal mine, and blowing up the joint?"

I shook my head, just realizing she had walked in. "Huh?"

"You wouldn't really kill my future girlfriend, would you?" Iggy asked, also poking his head into the woman's bathroom.

"Yeah, in your dreams," I said. "Get out!"

"Why?" he asked. "I'm blind!"

Skid gasped. "No, really?" She held up her hand. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Four. I know, I know – I'm a total genius.

"Hardi-har-har," he said, swiping her hand down with amazing accuracy. It was kinda creepy. "Can we go now? The clerk person is staring at me weird."

"How do you know?" I asked, pushing him out of the way.

"Fang told me," he replied.

I raised an eyebrow he couldn't see. "Yeah – s_he _sure is staring at you weird."

In fact, it was actually a very over-weight woman with hairs on her chin wearing male clothes. I could see how someone would make the mistake of mixing them up.

"Actually, Ig," Angel said, giggling. "It's a she – maybe Fang's losing his eye sight. But she's a looker. Why don't you go and flirt with her?"

Iggy raised a strawberry blond eyebrow, got a thoughtful look on his face, and shrugged. "Might as well."

I stared after him as he went to flirt with the woman behind the counter. Then I turned to the eight year old, a blond eyebrow of my own raised.

"Did you use any type of mind control what-so-ever?" I asked the little girl with golden locks.

"Nope," she replied, popping the 'p'.

"Nice," Skid and I said at the same time, and did the fist bump with Angel. It _was _kind of weird, though. I mean, both of their fists were so small compared to mine, it was sad. And again with the feeling of self-consciousness! Well, I might as well go for the record! Five in one day! I've already knocked down two of 'em.

We met up with Fang, Tank, and Nudge in the food isle of the little store. Fang looked at Iggy flirting with the clerk on the other side of the counter, and asked, "How did you get him to do it?"

"Angel told him it was a hot girl," I whispered back.

"Ah," he replied.

It was weird. I felt so natural with Fang, not at all like I had to try or anything. I just went with the flow, and the flow was pretty cool. If you like the dark, mysterious and almost-silent type.

And gorgeous. Did I mention he was gorgeous?

_Shut it, girly! You're letting your hormones get the best of you!_

Bu-

_Hormones! Periods! Those damned things are making you lose your mind, I tell you! LOSE YOUR MIND!_

OK, chill. Gosh.

"I'm starving," Nudge said, breaking up the mental conversation in my mind. "I don't think I've ever been this hungry in my entire life, and I just ate! I really need some food in my stomach, or I'll start looking anorexic. I'm already super-duper skinny, so I won't have to lose much weight. I wonder if I _can _lose weight, or if I'll just stay the same until I die. That would be pretty weird, but it would also make me real- mph."

"Thank you Lord," Fang said as Gazzy slowly – and I mean, super slow-like – peeled his hand away from Nudge's mouth.

She bit him, and he yanked his hand away from her as fast as he could. And since he was a bird kid, that was pretty fast.

I snickered.

Fang smirked.

Nudge bit Gazzy.

Gazzy got this intense look on his face and let out a fart that would make the Devil hold his nose.

And then all Hell broke loose.

Skid

I don't even remember most of it.

Tank and I were talking about something we both found just freaking hilarious, when all the windows in the little store broke in. Glass shards spilled into the convenience store, and I squeezed my eyelids closed so tightly it made my eyes hurt, just as someone tackled me. My back hit the floor, and the breath left my lungs in a _whoosh_.

I wanted to open my eyes, but I kept them closed as tightly as I could.

Then I heard someone say, "Keep an eye on the short one and the blond – they're the most dangerous."

Then there was a sharp pain in the back of my head, and I didn't hear or feel anything.

Max

I woke up with a killer headache.

The last thing I remembered was Fang tackling me, and something pricking my leg. Then I was enveloped in black. But I _also _remember Fang smelling really, really _good._

Cough. Ignore that. Or I swear I'll break more than one of your bones.

"Report," I coughed out through the headache.

"Immalive," Gazzy coughed.

"Here," Fang said in a scratchy voice.

"Present," Nudge said, coughing.

"President," Iggy said, always the joker.

"I'm here," Angel said.

"Attendant," Tank said.

Silence.

"Skid?" I called.

"Nugh," Skid moaned.

I strained to lift up my head (bringing it over my heart really _hurt_) and look around. I found us in a white room, handcuffed to metal tables, all wearing those stupid paper dresses they make you wear at hospitals. And the guys looked pretty damn stupid in them.

Anyway, Skid had her eyes squeezed closed and her head on table. But her heart was definitely beating, and you can tell that.

"Oh, thank God," I said. "Skid?"

"Nugh," she replied.

I banged my legs and arms against the table, and her bright blue eyes popped open. Her mouth opened wide, and let out a blood-curdling scream.

"Skid!" Tank screamed. "Skid! Stop screaming!"

"Skid!" I yelled. "Shut up!"

She stopped screaming, and her head rolled to the side, her eyes closing again.

"I didn't do it!" Gazzy yelled.

"We know you didn't do it, Gaz," I said with a sigh and looked down at myself. Well, there's that self-conscience feeling again. I just remembered I was in a hospital paper dress, _on my period and someone had freaking changed me. _

Awesome. There's the self-conscience feeling again. Only two more to go!

An invisible door fwooshed open, and a man with black hair and a white lab coat walked into the white room. He was holding a chart, and was looking down at it. He looked up and scribbled something

"Hey, asshole," I spat. "What do you want?"

Of course, he didn't listen to me. I really hate when people do that.

He moved on to the next person, and the door opened again with another _whoosh_. I looked at the door, my eyes glaring at the next person. Then they widened in shock.

It was a girl in black floor length skirt, and a baggy, loose knit sweater with a hood and draw strings hanging weakly down the front (and, ya know, a white lab coat). She had three ear piercings in her right ear, a ring on each finger, and a silver necklace on a black leather cord that was a crescent moon, stars, and a black stone in the center. She also had brunette/red hair that couldn't really be classified as a color, because it seemed to change in the light, and light blue eyes that were hidden behind black glasses. She was probably about fourteen.

There was a clock hanging right above her head, and it read twelve-o'clock. Well, shit.

I didn't break the record!

**Dun, dun, dun . . . **

– **Sanity **


	26. Ninja Instincts

**Yeah, yeah. You may now come at me with an army of pitchforks, flame throwers, and flame throwing pitchforks. I do realize it's been almost a month since I've updated this.**

**Moving onto another subject: Was anyone else scared at the new arrangements of the thing when you log in? I was all 'HOLY CRAP, HOW AM I EVER GOING TO FIND ANYTHING?'**

**J.P: Well, you obviously found out. **

**Me: Obviously.**

**Disclaimer: The only way I'll ever own Maximum Ride is if I ever convert my brain into JP's body. Doctors are now working on it.**

I really, really hate my life.

"I hear ya, sister," Angel said with a sigh.

"Ange, I didn't say that out loud," I said.

"I know," she responded.

"So what were you thinking about?" Iggy asked.

"How much I hate my life," I said, and then got an itch on my nose. Damn restraints.

"You're preaching to the choir, sister," said an unfamiliar voice.

I looked around, and asked, "Everyone else hears that, too, right?"

"Yeah," said the crowd.

"OK, so I'm not going crazy."

"Don't say that too fast," Skid said. "We don't know until the tests are over."

I sighed. "So, then who's voice was that?"

"Hello, it's me!" said the voice.

"Uh . . ." I said. "Who is this 'me' you speak of?"

"Me," said the voice. "The dog. Also known as Experiment Letter D, Number One. AKA Total."

"Ange," I said.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"Can the dog talk?" I asked, turning to look at her.

"He sure can," she replied.

"And when did you learn about this?" Fang asked.

"Oh, right about now," she replied.

"Hm. Interesting," Skid said.

"Very," Nudge stated. "Like, I can't believe you didn't tell us this before, Total! That is so cool that you can talk! I mean, I've always wanted to meet an animal that could talk but this is, like, way better than I thought it would-"

"Nudge," Gazzy said. "Nudge! Nudge, shut up!"

Nudge clamped her mouth shut. "I really need to work on that."

"You sure do," Total (Who, if you don't remember, is the dog) said. "Why do you think I kept my mouth shut in the first place? Literally."

"Oh, ha ha," Nudge said sarcastically.

"I know, he's quite the hoot," Angel said.

"Do you even know what the word hoot means?" Iggy asked.

"Hey, I read the dictionary," Angel said.

"Only true nerds at heart do," Gazzy replied.

"Bite me."

"Would if I could."

"Oh, you can feel the love," Fang said.

"Yep," Skid said. "It's like a warm blanket of sunshine."

"You are so cheesy," I said.

"The Swisser the better," she replied.

Silence.

"I'm in a room with a bunch of wack jobs," Tank said. "Thank God we're restrained."

Just then, our wrists and ankles were free. The first thing I did was scratch my nose.

"Aw, shit," Tank said.

"We're coming for you, Tank," Fang said and raised, eyes wide, joker smile plastered onto his face.

Tank made his arms into a cross and said, "Stay back, demons of Satan!"

I snickered, along with everyone else. I bet the scientists behind the wall were all 'Say wahh?' How much you puttin' down?

_Max, you really need to stop talking to yourself._

I glanced at Angel. She and Gazzy were trying to bite each other. You know kid stuff.

_Umm . . . _I thought. _I don't know who you are, but get out of my head._

_You know who I am_, responded the voice in my head.

_Oh, do I?_

_Yeah. You think I'm a traitor._

_SANITY? I'm going to shoot you with a bazooka, and it's going to send you flying to Africa._

_When you get a hold of one, _Sanity thought to me. _PS: I'm not a traitor. I'm like Jeb. I seem to be half in and half out, but really, I'm on your side. You can ask Angel, if you want. But they're monitoring her brain waves right now, so not at this moment._

_And they aren't monitoring mine why? _I asked.

_Well, no offense, but Angel has just a wee bit more brain power than you. You know, reading minds, controlling them, telekinesis-_

_Telekinesis? Say what?_

_Just making sure you're paying attention – but it's possible, so keep an eye out. _

_Got it. And how I do I know I can trust you right _now?

_Blind faith? _Sanity suggested.

_Have fun entertaining that notion._

_Will do._

Silence in my brain.

_So, are you going to help us get out of here? _I asked.

_I just did, _she thought back.

_You let us go? _

_Well, technically, it was very complicated mechanisms which are connected to this button which I pushed, so indirectly, yes, it was me._

_Don't be a smartass. _

_I can't help it – it's in my veins. _

_I though blood was in your veins._

Now _who's being a smartass?_

_Me._

_Well, at least you have that going for you._

"Hello, experiments Letter A, Numbers One through Seven, and Experiment Letter D, Number One."

"Oh, bite me," Total muttered, licking is paws.

"You are now at the School, around thirty-hundred miles from the Institute. The School is in Los Angeles, California."

"I've always wanted to go to LA," Skid said sadly. "I wanted to be like a true tourist – wear a big hat, go search for the celebrities, eat a California roll in California." She sighed.

"You are so dramatic," I said.

"It's a skill."

"There is no escape," said the voice coming from the ceiling. "There are armed guards guarding-"

"So _that's _what they do," Iggy said in wonder.

"-every exit of the facility," continued the voice like it stopped whenever one of us interrupted it. Interesting. "It will be best if you just adhere to the tests that-"

"Bullshit," Fang muttered.

"My thoughts exactly," I said.

"-will be run on you, and you will be free to go."

"Yeah, and unicorns prance in fields of lollipops," Gazzy said.

"You mean that they _don't_?" Angel asked, looking shocked.

Tank rolled his eyes.

"Now, please calmly-"

"Dap," I said.

"-sit-"

"Dap."

"-down-"

"Dap."

"-on-"

"Dap."

"Max, what are you doing?" Gazzy asked.

"Stopping the thing," I responded.

"Why . . . ?" Iggy asked.

"It entertains me," I replied.

"You're easily entertained, aren't you?" Fang asked.

"You have no idea," Skid said, put her head in her hands, and shook it.

"-the exam table and the first of our tests will begin."

"Oh, so it's called an exam table!" Iggy said in awe. "I thought it was called a torture chair."

We laughed, but didn't move to stand on the chair.

"Not following directions has repercussions," said the voice.

None of us moved. I'm so proud of my little rebels; remind me to pinch their cheeks later. I snorted and looked down at my feet. I noticed for the first time that our feet were bare. Weird . . .

_Zap!_

Angel, Nudge, Total, and Gazzy screeched. I bit my lip and looked down at the ground. It was just an ordinary, white, completely germ-free floor that just so happened belonged to some of the smartest people in the world and-

I did a face-palm. _Max_, you really are an idiot, I thought to myself. Of course they'd have a system to punish their experiments when they don't listen! It's like those electric collars they put on dogs – after a while, they learn their boundaries. A simple way to say it is, 'Me scientist, you experiment. Me in charge, you worth dirt,' for our Neanderthals out there. So easy even a cave man can do it.

Which makes absolutely no sense; if he's living in the present, he isn't a cave man. He's a very hairy person. But he's human, too! Treat him with a little respect.

"Please sit on the exam table."

We all hurried to the tables we were found on, even Total, his little Scottie body trotting to the much smaller table the white coats had given him.

"You can get up there, big guy?" Tank asked him.

"Sure can," the Scottie said. Then he jumped.

It was like watching the cow jump over the moon.

Nah, just kidding, but he did manage to get up with one jump.

"Good job, Total!" Gazzy praised. "Remind me to give you a doggy treat."

"I'll be cool with bacon," he responded, lay down, and put his head on his crossed front paws.

Skid and I shared a glance, and she furrowed her brow. I nodded.

"When they come in," I whispered. "Don't do anything."

"What?" Iggy asked.

"Whatever happened to rebelling?" Nudge asked.

I shot them both looks. I gave everyone a look.

"OK," they all said.

And then the invisa-wall opened up as a door, and we attacked the three white coats that came in.

It was easy. Too easy.

And, as it turns out, I should listen to my ninja instincts.

Because the guards just so happened to have _guns. _Awesome.

**Review? Please?**

– **Sanity **


	27. Drifting

**Did you ever notice how your spit get's all thick and stuff when you drink milk?**

**JP: Yeah . . . wait. What?**

**Me: If you don't know what I'm talking about, then why did you agree?**

**JP: I've learned it's best to just smile, nod, and say 'yeah' every once in a while.**

**Me: That's a good idea. So when I become the supreme overlord of America and the Philistines with an army of dung-flinging monkeys you'll be my general?**

**JP: Not unless I want to get into serious trouble with the government.**

**Me: But don't you?**

**JP: As much as I want you to have the rights to MR.**

**Me: . . . So not at all?**

**JP: Not one bit.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride or anything affiliated with it. I don't own any books, songs, pop culture, mad scientists, book writers, TV shows, or furniture. So I really don't own much, do I?**

Skid

Sirens went off at the volume of a screeching banshee (Google: a girl's best friend), and the voice from the ceiling was calmly stating, "Code red, passage way D, North wing. Please stay in your respected offices. Thank you."

Well, at least they were polite about it.

Eight bare feet thundered down the hallway, slapping the floor with – you guessed it – slapping sounds. I don't know how he managed, but Total kept pace with us all.

"This way," Max said quietly, skidded to a halt and turned sharply into another passage, and we followed noisily. It was hard to keep quiet on possibly marble floors.

We ran in silence for a long time, not encountering anyone or thing. Max would make us turn or backtrack sometimes, when finally, Gazzy broke the silence.

"Where are we going?" he asked in an almost whisper.

"Out," Max said simply.

"But how do you know where to go?" Nudge asked, eyes wider than the moon.

Max didn't answer, which I thought was a little weird. She always answered our questions.

We came to a wall, and I swore.

"Turn around," Max said, and led us back down the hall and to another passageway. We ran down this one, and saw a wall coming down.

"Under!" Fang screamed, and shoved Nudge, Angel, and Gazzy underneath the down coming wall. It was getting too small, and I reacted without thinking.

I sprinted to it, and used my best slip n' slide moves to get under the wall. Like every cliché movie and book, the second my feet got past it, it closed with a hiss.

"Skid!" Max yelled from the other side. She was probably banging her fist against the wall, to no prevail.

"Keep moving!" I called back, and then turned around to the kids. "Well, go!"

They turned around silently and sprinted down the hall, me right after them.

We backtracked at least seven times until we reached a window, where there were two guards. With big guns.

My life couldn't get any better, could it?

Ha ha, wrong. It got a whole lot more fantastic as they started firing.

I shoved the three kids to the ground, took a leap of faith, and started zigzagging around the corridor. They tried to fire at me, but I was moving too much for them to focus on. I ended up kicking one in the shin, yanking the gun out of his hands and hitting him in the forehead with it. He fell to the floor with a big _thump._

I whipped around to the next guy, but found him lying on the ground, dead or unconscious. I looked at the three kids who were standing next to him, wide eyed.

"We're not completely useless," Gazzy said in a rough voice that didn't fit his twelve-year-old body.

"Of course not," I said, and then stepped back several paces. "Cover your eyes."

They did so, and I took a running start at the window to drop-kick it.

Max

I was not happy about leaving Skid behind that wall with three kids to take care of.

Sure, she's pretty good at winging it (it's got to the point where it's not funny), but still . . .

"Let's go," Tank said, wrapped a hand around my bicep, and dragged me away from the wall.

_Left. No, right_, Sanity said in my head, and I followed her orders without hesitation.

I didn't keep track of where we were going, just that we were.

Finally, we reached a window that had five hairy Erasers around it with big guns. And I don't mean their muscles.

"Fuck," Fang said loudly, a hard, stony look settling on his glaring face.

"What?" Iggy said quietly.

"Erasers," Tank muttered back to him.

"Fuck," he said.

"Fuck is right," I murmured.

"Experiments letter A, one through three located, Director," an Eraser that was slightly bigger than the others said into a walkie-talkie. He got a response I couldn't hear, and replied, "Bring them back alive but unconscious. Yes, ma'am."

Some of the Eraser's licked their lips, fully forming, inch long teeth and snouts growing on their faces.

"So that's how it's going to be, eh?" I said. Oh, yeah. I went all Canadian on their asses. What now . . . eh?

I let go of the control on my back, and my wings sprouted from the back of the hospital gown. The guys followed my lead

Some of them chuckled, and others growled and salivated.

Disgusting.

I rushed to one of them, and he got read to shoot his gun. I kicked him in the groin, and he hunched to the ground. It's a low-blow, but I'm not being judged. I kicked him in the temple quickly, while going to beat up the next one. First, he hit me in the gut – it wasn't pleasant. Next, I was hit across the cheek – not pretty. And lastly, someone took aim with a gun and shot me – in the wing.

I howled in pain, and slumped to the floor, grasping the bullet wound. Hot blood seeped through my fingers.

On second thought, maybe it wasn't such a good idea to take out my wings. Yeah, it was a pretty bad idea. Something hit the back of my head, and the world went blurry. Not black, blurry – about as bad as it could get.

I watched soundlessly (or at least I thought soundlessly . . . I could probably be screaming at the top of my lungs and not have noticed) as Fang and Iggy and Tank whipped Eraser butt.

What the hell was wrong with me? I should have been able to take them any day of the year! But I took on one and was shot down, while Fang, Iggy, and Tank were having a field day.

Soon, they were all on the floor with me.

Tank and Fang walked to me as Iggy kicked the window, so the glass shattered out. They swung my arms around their shoulders, and I groaned.

Fang and Tank dragged me to the window, and picked me up to the sill.

"Max, this is gonna hurt," Fang said, as he held onto my hand.

I grunted. I don't think anything could hurt more than my wings. I didn't even bother pulling them in.

And then my shoulders were almost dislocated as Fang and Tank jumped out of the window. I groaned, and closed my eyes. The moving scenery bellow was making me nauseas.

I felt like I was slipping out of consciousness. My hands were unclenching from Tank and Fang's, and then I was drifting . . . drifting.

**There's no beating around the bush: That sucked. Don't try and deny it.**

**Skid: Yes, it did.**

**Me: But I couldn't do too much without giving things away. And I kinda sorta pulled this out of my butt.**

**Don't even bother reviewing: I know it stinks.**

– **Sanity **


End file.
